


Seth Da'lath

by galapagos



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkward Flirting, Dry Humor, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship is Magic, Humor, Minor Cassandra Pentaghast/Varric Tethras, Minor Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Sarcasm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-03-10 22:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 28
Words: 50,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3304934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galapagos/pseuds/galapagos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The adventures of Sethariel the Dalish First who becomes the leader of the inquisition. Sethariel is a quiet, intelligent, and sarcastic mage who finds herself swept up in a very strange world of politics and warfare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To the Conclave!

**Author's Note:**

> **Working Title**  
> This is my first fanfiction. Actually, it's my first piece of fiction, period. Constructive criticism is welcomed. :)
> 
> Note 1: I have erred on the side of caution and put a violence warning just in case.
> 
> Note 2: Seth Da'lath means "Thin Little Love". I promise it will make sense.
> 
> Note 3: I won't stick too closely to the in the in-game dialogue. Sethariel will say exactly what she wants, thanks. This has some AU elements, but mostly in dialogue and inner monologue.
> 
> Note 4: This story starts with a prologue type chapter set before beginning of Dragon Age: Inquisition. The first chapter is build-up to the full story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a prologue to the main story. It covers Sethariel's journey to the conclave and what happens there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've edited the chapter to fix some issues. I was also having some problems uploading. Sorry!

"Keeper, are you really saying that I am being sent to observe the conclave?" Sethariel asked. The woman’s bright green eyes sparkled with excitement, a small grin making them slightly squished.

"Yes, da'len!" Keeper Deshanna laughed. "For the hundredth time, yes!" The older woman looked down at her First, the woman who would one day take her place as head of the clan. Sethariel was a small woman, even for an elf. It added to her a childlike look that usually was an odd juxtaposition with her serious attitude, at this moment it fitted her exuberance.

"Just making sure you haven't realized what a crazy idea this is." the younger woman said, her grin widening, making the end of the scar on her left cheek pucker like a dimple.  

"Are you frightened?" asked the Keeper, her face growing more serious.

"No, well a little. Caution is wise but..."

Her pupil's voice returned to its normal, quiet level and then trailed off.

"But, you're excited too aren’t you?" the Keeper prompted with a smile. Her tone was warm and full of motherly affection as well as concern. This was her little girl, by everything but blood, about to set off on an important mission.

"Yes. I am. Very excited in fact. You know I'm not a people person but, this? This is important. And, well, you know that I have always been interested in everyone else's business."  Sethariel said with a nervous little laugh. Sethariel _was_ a little nervous. She had trained for many years to act as the representative of Clan Lavellan and handle their business with the outside world. Sethariel had negotiated with lots of farmers and merchants for the clan, as well as some minor landholders across the northern Free Marches. This venture though was so much larger and more important.

War had spread across Thedas after the mages, those capable of magic, had rebelled against the Templars. The Templars, they claimed, abused their power and where no longer acting as protectors against magic turned to evil purpose but as harsh and unjust jailors of all mages. Now, the Divine, leader of the Chantry, the religion that spawned the Templars, was holding a Conclave to try and negotiate a peace between the groups. Sethariel had been tasked with observing these peace talks and reporting back to the Keeper with her findings. Even though their people, the Dalish, were not involved, a war could prove catastrophic for the nomadic tribe.   

"I'm just afraid that I get in trouble somehow. You know how 'graceful' I am." as she gestured to the top of her left ear the top two inches of which was missing. She lost it in a bad accident that had almost killed her. She also had a fine network of scars on the far left side of her face near her ear. She also had one larger one that ran from the corner of her eye, along the edge of her cheekbone, and down her cheek.

"You're not a spy, da'len. I know that. You just need to observe. You are quiet, sensible, and resourceful. In addition, you are my First. There is no one better suited."

The Keeper raised her hand as the young woman raised an eyebrow, a slight frown on her face.

"I know you worry about your magic. It is not weak, it is merely unskilled. You are the oldest person I have ever heard of to come into magic, it takes time to learn. You have learned so much over the last five years; it is amazing. You should have more confidence! You possess natural skill and a good work ethic." Deshanna was a proud mother. Sethariel had come into her magic at twenty-four. An unheard of age to begin to express magical ability. Most mages expressed it sometime between toddler years and about twelve years of age. Sethariel's story was unique in other ways too, having apparently been triggered by an almost fatal accident.

Sethariel bush slightly at this praise. It was unexpected and she was never comfortable with such praise anyway.

“Besides,” Deshanna added, “you’re the only one the in clan that can speak the common tongue without a Dalish accent”

Sethariel gave a small, snorting laugh. "Thank you, Keeper. As long as my skills aren’t wasted."

It was true, Sethariel did feel somewhat better but she still had a bad feeling. She fingered the flat edge of her ear as she thought. What was giving her the bad feeling, she couldn't quite figure out but she felt like her destiny was slipping out of her grasp. It felt like a hollow space in her core.

“Now,” said the Keeper, her tone slipping into one of a motherly lecture. “Don’t be so sarcastic, at least out loud, while you are on this trip. The shemlans won’t appreciate it. And please remember not to say too much. You can’t just blurt out everything you think.””

“No one appreciates my wit,” Sethariel sighed with mock indignation.

The Keeper shook her head, “I mean this, seth da’lath.” She said using the other woman’s childhood pet name.

Sethariel face took on a more serious expression, the Keeper only used the pet name now when she was concerned. Keeper Dashanna had raised her after her parents had died from a sickness which had ravaged the Free Marches when Sethariel was a small child. Almost half of their clan had died and some of the small human villages in the area had been completely decimated. Sethariel’s mother had been the Keeper’s close friend. Even though everyone in their clan looked after the children, parents primarily cared for their own. The Keeper had taken her in and raised her as her own daughter, despite her seeming lack of magical talent. Sethariel loved the woman as her mother and listened to the lecture as respectfully as she could, keeping the rest of her sarcastic comments to herself.

“It’s ok to be suspicious but don’t let the shemlan catch on,” Deshanna warned. “I know it will be hard but you can’t let them see you watching them. It will make them nervous.”

Sethariel nodded. “ _No one likes to be sized up. I’ve been yelled at enough times by the clan for having a leery look, and I’ve known them my entire life._ ” she thought. With her penchant for accidents and her training as the clan’s representative, she’d never been very close with the rest of the clan.

“And make sure you are careful with campfires and that they are completely out when you leave a camp site. Oh, and keep your things tidy. You’ve packed enough undergarments? And warm socks? And a heavy coat and…”

Sethariel cut her off and hugged the Keeper. She felt a wave of sadness, she was going to miss Deshanna.

“Yes! I have everything but why don’t you help me check.”

They headed back to the camp to get Sethariel ready for her trip.

****

Sethariel left early the next morning. The clan gave her a lovely, but quick, send-off breakfast, then the Keeper walked her to the docks in a small fishing village nearby. Clan Lavellan had traveled to the southern-most part of the Free Marches, near the sea, so she wouldn't have to go so far alone. They were planning on returning to their more northern haunts as soon as she left and the Keeper reviewed the instructions on where to look for them on her return.

They had arranged passage with a fishing boat to cross the Waking Sea. The captain had known the Keeper for years and owed her a favor of some sort so it had worked out well. Sethariel had left her staff behind, they didn’t want her to be captured as an apostate, but she had some knifes and a dagger to protect herself. Sethariel and the Keeper hugged one last time before the young woman boarded the fishing boat. She waved to Deshanna as they left. Sethariel enjoyed the sea voyage, which felt too short. She loved the water and had never seen the sea. The waves were hypnotic and she loved the smell of the salt. The walk to Haven though was not so fun. It took nearly three weeks of walking from sunrise to sunset every day. She’d then have to find an out of the way place near the road to camp. She had plenty of rations and didn’t need to cook much which was good because she was exhausted. Her sense of dread started to return and Sethariel worried about how she would get into the conclave. She didn’t think she could sneak in easily, a Dalish would stick out in a meeting full of Chantry leaders and human nobles. She decided she needed more information before she could form a plan.

" _The Keeper's plan had been to get in and observe_ ," Sethariel thought " _but of course she hadn't provided any detail on how to accomplish that small task._ "

Sethariel finally arrived at the conclave and she first went to the village of Haven, where most of the people were camped. No one noticed her at first as there were many elves, though they were not Dalish. Sethariel doubted anyone noticed the difference. She was small and had put some effort into making herself look inconspicuous. Sethariel had dressed in a slightly too large tunic and coat. She had also wound a large, slightly ragged scarf around her neck and rubbed a bit of soot on her face to distract from her dark Dalish facial tattoos, her vallaslin.

The people of Haven seemed to all be very preoccupied. There were hundreds of people milling about everywhere. She tried to eavesdrop as discretely as possible, trying to get some information on the conclave. The people in Haven though were mostly servants, villagers, and soldiers with little to no useful information. Anyone who knew what was going on would be at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, where the conclave was actually being held. Sethariel headed up the path out of the village to the temple.

It was a fairly short walk, only about twenty minutes. On her arrival at the temple, Sethariel was surprised to find that she really could just walk into the conclave. The large main doors of the temple were wide open and no one was questioning the people coming in and out in a steady stream. There were only two guards, one on each side of the enormous doors, and looked straight ahead without moving. Sethariel walked right into the temple holding her small bundle of belongings pretending that she was carrying some important delivery. She had also found a broom that she was clutching. No one questioned her. No one paid any attention to her at all.

_“What kind of security is this?_ " she thought, raising her eyebrows. " _Even I know this isn't wise. These people are the shemlen leaders and they let anyone in and out of this place without even checking who they are? What about assassins?_ _I thought important shems were always looking for assassins._ " She gave a shrug, maybe she was wrong, novels weren’t exactly a foolproof means of gathering cultural intelligence. She shook her head slightly and wandered carefully around the temple. _"At least I was right about the broom . No one questions someone with a broom.”_

Sethariel headed into the enormous building and had to force herself to keep moving and not stare. The temple was overwhelmingly large.

" _Creators. Fortress, really_ " she thought " _Not really a temple. Well, at least not how I would do a temple._ "

She wandered through some less crowded corridors and eventually she found herself in a seemingly abandoned part of the fortress. She found a small alcove with a strange looking dragon statue where she could hide her things. Sethariel was trying to figure out what to do next when she heard a woman’s terrified scream.

"Help me! Someone!" shouted a woman from a nearby room. The voice sounded terrified. Sethariel felt a chill, and the knot in her stomach came back with a vengeance.

Sethariel drew a small dagger from a secret sheath in her boot and ran, all thoughts of hiding pushed aside. The woman who had screamed was in great danger, she just knew. The knot in her stomach grew as she threw open the doors. An elderly woman in one of those hideous Chantry outfits was suspended midair by some kind of magic. She was crying and shouting for help.

"Help me!" the woman cried again.

"What's going on here!" Sethariel shouted brandishing her dagger and drawing on as much mana as she could. He eyes widened when she saw the thing behind the woman.

"Kill the intruder." the thing hissed. It was large: black, red, and purple like a bruise. A man but also not. An abomination. It was surrounded by several mages with weird hood pulled down over their faces.

Sethariel then did something incredibly brave and incredibly stupid. She directed a blast of energy at the creature and his minions as she ran and pulled the old woman from her bindings. It wasn’t planned or thought threw, it was a reaction based on instinct.

"No" he shouted then something hit Sethariel as she and the woman were surrounded in a green light.

****

Sethariel opened her eyes to a strange landscape. Everything had a green hue and seemed twisted. " _Is this the Fade?_ " she thought. The dream realm sometimes looked like this.

The old woman had already risen and she pulled at Sethariel's arm.

"Come child, we have to move. They will be after us. After you." she said in soothing tones.

"Wha’?" Sethariel asked weakly, her words slurred. She felt sick and her hand hurt as she rose unsteadily to her feet. She had a hard time thinking straight, but she was pretty sure she had hit her head quite hard. An old woman in a funny hat was swimming through her vision. Sethariel blinked, trying to focus.

"You saved me, but we are still in danger." The woman grabbed her hand and pulled it so Sethariel could see a strange green mark on her palm. It pulsed with the same strange green light that they had been hit with earlier.

"This was supposed to be magic to rip the veil. That was their plan, you stopped them before they were finished with their blood magic ceremony but you seem to have it now. We need to go now." she said as she pulled at Sethariel.

Sethariel followed the woman. She was leading them towards a large rent in the Fade up a steep hill. They could see the sky outside. Then a horrible scream filled the air. Sethariel turned to see hundreds of enormous spider like demons. She and the elderly woman began to run as the demons getting closer. They approached the exit, but the old woman stopped short.

"Come on!" Sethariel screamed, grabbing at the woman. Her vision was still blurry but her thoughts were more collected. They needed to get out as quickly as possible. Then she saw the blood covering the woman's side. The demons were almost up the hill.

"No." the woman replied quietly. The woman seemed to grow and was surrounded by a golden light.

"You have stop them." she said and pushed the young woman much harder than she should have been able to push her. Sethariel fell out of the rift and blacked out before she hit the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fanfic ever, **_constructive_** criticism is appreciated.


	2. The Mark and the Breach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sethariel awakes to find herself a prisoner. After being questioned, she is taken to a rift where she makes a surprising discovery. She has the ability to close the rifts and may be the only one who can close the Breach and save the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have stayed fairly close to the in game dialogue for this chapter. I probably will for the next as well but it will start to become more and more my own as I get the story established.

Sethariel awoke to find herself on her knees in chains surrounded by guards with swords pointed at her. Her whole body hurt but the pain in her left hand was terrible. She gasped as the door to the dingy cell she occupied was thrown open and a giant woman with cropped dark hair entered, a smaller red haired woman in a hood following.

“Tell me why we shouldn't kill you now? The conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.” the woman growled in a strange accent as she circled the elf.

Sethariel looked at the woman with wide eyes but stayed silent. She was shaking with exhaustion and her thoughts seemed fuzzy. She felt sick and weak and was in no mood to be shouted at, especially by giant shemlan women.

“Explain this!” the woman grabbed Sethariel’s hand. It glowed green and hurt so much she thought she was going to black out. The woman threw her hand down.

“I can’t.” Sethariel gasped, softly.

“What do you mean you can’t!” the woman spat.

“I don’t know, I don’t know what this is.” Sethariel said, her voice sounding hoarse. she wetted her lips lightly, they were dry and cracked. She was scared and confused but tried to keep her voice calm.

The dark haired woman made a strangled noise of anger.

“You’re lying” she shouted grabbing Sethariel’s by the coat. The woman was striking with a beautiful, strong face and a deep scar on her cheek. Her expression though was one of fury.

Sethariel thought she was going to hit her.

“Cassandra,” said the red haired woman as she gently pushed the woman away from the elf, “we need her.”

Her accent was slightly slurred, Sethariel thought it might be Orlesian. Orlesian accents had often been described as slurred in the books she read.

“What happened?” Sethariel asked. She was confused, she ached everywhere, and she was getting a migraine. Her head throbbed while tiny flashing light danced at the edge of her vision.

“The Divine is dead and there is a hole is the sky with demons pouring out. You’re the only one who survived. You must know.” she spat.

Suddenly it hit her, “ _Their leaders,”_ she remembered her thoughts about assassins earlier, “ _So many shemlan leaders. They think I did this? Fenedhis! So, much for not making the shems angry._ ”

Sethariel thought hard, suppressing the pain and trying to dig through the fuzzy feeling in her head to remember what had happened. She clearly remembered going into the conclave and wandering around but nothing after finding the statue where she hid her things then… Then she remembered the green light.

“Do you remember what happened?” the Orlesian woman asked trying to sound kind. Sethariel knew it was just a way to try to get her to answer. It was an old ploy, this good guard bad guard trick, and was used in almost every novel she had ever read. But, it would probably be more safe to comply and tell them everything she knew.

“The last thing I remember there was green light and things were chasing me and then, then a woman helped me?” Sethariel said, confused.

“A woman?” the dark haired woman asked in a surprised voice.

“What happened?” Sethariel asked again, her voice cracking. Her throat burned and she had a hard time speaking but she needed to know.

The dark haired woman, Cassandra, grunted. “It will be easier to show you. Leliana,” she said looking at the other woman, “head to the forward camp.”

“ _Ok,_ ” though Sethariel, “ _so the angry lady is Cassandra and the ginger is Leliana. At least I know something now.”_

Leliana nodded and walked out.

Cassandra grabbed the small elf woman and hauled her to her feet. She undid the shackles and tied Sethariel’s hand with ropes instead.

She marched Sethariel out of the cell, up a flight of stairs, and out into a snowy village. Sethariel looked up at the sky. It was filled by a horrible hole. A large mass of clouds roiled around it and large rocks seemed to be floating in the ghastly green beam light that emanated from the center like a stalk.

“The Breach.” Cassandra explained, “A door to the world of demons. It grows larger with each passing hour. It is not the only such rift, just the largest.” She turned to look at Sethariel, “It was caused by the explosion at the conclave.”

“An explosion did this?” Sethariel asked disbelieving.

“This one did. Unless we act it may grow to swallow the world.”

Then a pulse of light came from the breach. Overwhelming pain shot through her hand and up her arm. Sethariel fell to her knees, clutching her left wrist.

“Every time the breach expands, the mark on you hand grows.” Cassandra said kneeling in front of her. “It is killing you. It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time.”

“I understand.” Sethariel managed to reply. “ _More death. Great._ ” she thought as she squinted her eyes and glared at the sky.

Cassandra looked surprised. “Then?” she asked softly.

“I will do whatever I can to help.” Sethariel said, keeping her tone calm. “ _It better than just dying for no reason.”_ She added in her head. Besides, this Breach put her clan in danger too. “ _I can’t let the whole world be swallowed by this thing. I knew the Keeper shouldn’t send me._ ” Cassandra helped her to her feet and they started towards the gates.

The people they passed glared a few even spat at Sethariel. Cassandra explained that the people were thought she was guilty of blowing up the conclave and killing everyone including their religious leader, Divine Justinia. The Divine had been the one to call for the conclave to try to negotiate peace between the Templars and Mages. Sethariel could understand why the people were scared and angry, she was as well. When they walked out of the gate at the end of the walkway, the other woman stopped walking and hesitated for a moment and drew a knife.

“There will be a trial,” she asked “I can promise nothing more.” Her voice sounded hard.

Sethariel nodded once, keeping her eyes on Cassandra’s face.

“ _Try to look trustworthy. Creators, try to look trustworthy._ ” she told herself.

Cassandra sighed and cut the ropes binding Sethariel’s wrists.

“Come, it is not far,” she said and gestured Sethariel to follow.

“Where are you taking me?” Sethariel asked.

“Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the breach.” Cassandra replied.

She explained that they would be heading to one of the smaller rifts as they walked. They trudged on for a few minutes when another pulse came from the Breach. Sethariel fell to her knees again.

“The pulses are coming faster now, we must hurry.” Cassandra said as she helped the shaking Sethariel back to her feet.

They started to walk on but Cassandra heard a sound, “Demons” she snapped and drew her sword.

She rushed forward throwing herself at a wraith that had appeared and cutting it down quickly. The battle was short, Cassandra venting her anger on the monsters before her. As she slammed her sword a final time into a shade she spun. There had been wraiths behind her. But she saw the elf woman holding a dagger and a broken staff with a heavy stone top.

“Drop them!” Cassandra commanded.

She thought the woman would try to attack her but instead she put both weapons down slowly and held her hands up as she straightened.

“ _I’m not a threat. So not a threat nice, scary lady. Please don’t stab me._ ” Sethariel felt the knot in her stomach tighten, the moment felt like it lasted forever.

But to Sethariel’s surprise, Cassandra sheathed her sword and sighed. She saw another shade corpse behind the elven woman and realized she had also dispatched the other wraiths.

“Wait, take them.” Cassandra relented, “I cannot protect you and it is not right to leave you unarmed.”

“Thank you,” the elf said quietly, picking the weapons back up. At least she would be able to defend herself.

Cassandra grunted and continued to lead up the path to the breach.

****

Sethariel had been a little surprised that Cassandra had let her keep the weapons so readily, though it could have been partially out of self-preservation. There was no way she would have been able to fight off all the demons on her own.

They walked in silence. They meet a few more shades and wraiths along the path but all were dispatched quickly. Cassandra was a fierce warrior. They had been walking for about ten minutes total when the mark on Sethariel’s palm suddenly flared with pain. It was more intense than before but she managed stayed on her feet this time and resisted the urge to clutch her wrist. Sethariel gritted her teeth and squeezed her weapons. A small, shiny rift hung the air in front of them exactly as Cassandra had described.

“ _Hmm. Monsters pouring out and everything,_ ” she thought bitterly.” Fenedhis!” she swore softly in elven. She noticed a tall, bald elf and a dwarf were fighting the demons as well as several human soldiers. She and the other woman threw themselves into the battle.

Sethariel slashed and stabbed with her dagger and used her staff like a club while using magic sparingly. Her magic was not very strong because she could not draw much mana. The Keeper had told her that she was much stronger than she realized but needed to practice and train. It would be hard to learn to draw from her deep well of power. “Would that be because I have a short rope?” she had quipped and the Keeper had laughed but had said very seriously “You are trying to learn magic as an adult, it will be frustrating. Children take years to learn to draw on their power, it’s hard for you because you feel like you should be able to do more.”

Sethariel smiled a little at the memory using it to give her the strength to cast very small fireball and dispatch a wraith. Suddenly, someone grabbed her wrist and thrust her hand towards the rift. She turned her head to see the bald elf holding her hand up as pain shot through her arm and a green light came from her hand.

“Quickly, before more come through!” the man shouted.

Her hand hurt worse than before but her eyes widened as the rift began to close. As it snapped out of existence, the green light from her hand suddenly stopped and a shock wave almost threw her back.

“It worked!” said Cassandra in a surprised tone.

“Yes,” the bald elf replied calmly and looked closely at Sethariel. He was handsome, in an odd sort of way. He was tall for an elf,had broad shoulders, and was well muscled but lithe.

“What did you do?” Sethariel asked.

“I did nothing. The credit is yours” he said in a light, almost singsong tone. “Your mark was caused by the same magic that caused the breach. I theorized the mark on you hand may be able to seal the rifts. It appears I was correct.”

He looked closely at her.

“She is a mage,” he said, his brow furrowed.

“An apostate.” Cassandra retorted. “Yes, I noticed. The magic she was using made it rather obvious. Could she have done this?”

“ _Not an apostate_ ,” Sethariel thought with a sniff. “ _I’m Dalish. I have been trained. Sort of._ ”

“All mages are now apostates, technically Seeker. This magic is very powerful and strange. I have never seen anything of it’s like, I doubt any mage could have done this. Besides, she is,” he hesitated giving Sethariel an odd look, “very weak.” Sethariel wanted to say something nasty, but bit her tongue.

“Good to know we can seal these rifts. I was starting to think we’d be ass deep in demons forever. Besides Seeker, the kid did fine,” interjected the dwarf with a laugh.

His voice was a bit husky but very pleasant and sounded full of good humor despite everything going on around him. He was wearing a tunic that was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, exposing a ridiculous amount of chest hair. He didn’t have a beard, which was odd for a dwarf. Cassandra snorted and glared at him.

“Varric Tethras,” he said to Sethariel with a smirk, “rogue, storyteller and, occasionally, unwelcome tagalong.”

He winked at Cassandra and her scowl deepened.

Sethariel looked at him for a moment, then looked at the odd crossbow he was carrying.

“ _The author Varric Tethras? Here?_ ” she thought raising an eyebrow and tilting her head slightly. Clan Lavellan had a small library included several novels by Varric Tethras in addition to more scholarly and practical texts. Sethariel enjoyed them immensely. What she said to him was “You are with the Chantry?” She realized what a stupid question was as soon as it come out of her mouth.

The bald elf laughed, “I hope that question wasn’t serious.”

“Technically, I’m a prisoner too.” Varric replied in a mocking, sad tone.

“You are not a prisoner Varric, I needed you to tell your story to the Divine. Not that you can do that now.” Cassandra said exasperated.

“ _The Champion’s story I’d bet. She was a big part of the mage rebellion in Kirkwall then disappeared. I bet that got more than a few Chantry knickers in a twist._ ” Sethariel thought. Her clan had always tried to keep abreast of important human affairs across the Free Marches. They knew what had happened in Kirkwall.

Sethariel nodded slightly and turned to the other elf, her eyebrow still raised.

“If introductions are in order, I am Solas,” he said with a slight incline of his head. “I am glad you are alive.”

“He means he kept the mark from killing you while you slept,” Varric supplied with a grin.

“ _These people are so strange,_ ” Sethariel thought. “ _Not fifteen minutes ago they thought I had murdered an entire peace convention and now they are making polite introductions. Does this mark attract crazy or is it just me?_ ”

“We must continue to the forward camp,” said Cassandra.

“Bianca’s getting excited.” Varric said with another grin.

“Bianca.” Sethariel said softly.

The dwarf must have thought it was a question because he replied, “My crossbow, Bianca. Say hello to the nice lady Bianca.”

“ _Ok,_ ” thought Sethariel. “ _So, he really does introduce his crossbow. At least some things in novels are true._ ”

Cassandra lead them over a small fence onto a side path since the road in front of them had been covered by a landslide. As they trudged through the snow toward the camp, Sethariel looked around her with horror. Bodies littered the snowy ground staining it dark red. She passed a young soldier who had been eviscerated. His intestines strewn over the ground, his face a frozen in a scream of terror, neck twisted at an impossible angle. Sethariel felt bile rise in her throat but fought the urge to vomit and continued walking.

“ _Fenedhis. This needs to stop,_ ” she thought.

****

Cassandra glanced back at the elf as they walked, her face was impassive. Cassandra began to scowl again but then their eyes met. The elf was angry. Her eye blazed with fury and her small fists were clenched tightly around her weapons.

“ _Maybe she was telling the truth. Andraste, I hope she was._ ” she thought and continued on towards the camp.

****

They made it to the forward camp fairly quickly. They had run into a few more shades and wraiths but nothing that slowed the four of them down much.  The red haired woman from before, Leliana, was arguing loudly with a man in a chantry outfit.

They stopped as the group approached.

“You made it,” Leliana said, “Chancellor Rodrick this is”

“I know who it is. As Grand Chancellor I order you to arrest this criminal and send her to Val Royeaux to face execution immediately!” he screeched pointing at Sethariel.

Sethariel went a little numb. “ _Ah, the death threats again,_ ” she thought, “ _and he spits when he talks. Lovely._ ” Sethariels patience was long gone and she gave a slight eye roll and looked away. There had not been much of it to start with.

“Order me?” Cassandra said disgustedly, “You are a glorified clerk! A bureaucrat!”

Sethariel hooked her makeshift weapons into her belt then closed her eyes stopped listening and crossed her arms. Her migraine had worsened and she was fighting down the urge to vomit again. She fell into a simple meditation the Keeper had taught her to help control her migraines. It started to fade slightly when her reverie was broken by a question addressed to her.

“What do you think we should do?” Cassandra asked.

“Wait, what?” Sethariel replied hesitantly, thinking she must have misheard.

“What do you think we should do?” Cassandra repeated, her seemingly permanent scowl deepening again.

“Know you’re asking me what to do?” Sethariel asked, still shocked at the turn of events. “ _What is wrong with you people!_ ” she screamed internally.

“You are the one with the mark.” Solas replied in that same too light tone.

“And you are the one we must keep alive.” Cassandra added her look softening a little. “Since we cannot agree on our own…” She turned and glared at Chancellor Roderick.

Sethariel thought back desperately to the conversation she had mostly ignored. They needed to get to the Breach at the temple. Their choices were a mountain path or charging with the soldiers. “ _Mountain paths are not exactly my best friend,_ ” Sethariel thought running her fingers over the stub of her ear where the two inches of the tip were missing, “ _never have been. And with this migraine…_ ”

“I think we should charge with the soldiers. I won’t live for your trial. What happens, happens now.” she said at them, her deceptively soft tone loaded with venom as she tightened her arms across her chest.

Cassandra seemed to look pleased but Solas frowned and Varric sighed, but grinned a little. Sethariel wanted to smile back the dwarf but refrained. She didn’t know these people and they seemed volatile at best. She wished she had someone she could trust. Maybe she would be able to trust them someday but not yet, not now. Definitely not when they kept flinging death in her face.

As they exited the camp, Cassandra stopped Sethariel and handed her a few vials of a healing potion from a box.

“Take these,” she said.

Sethariel nodded, then winced as pain shot through her head. Cassandra looked at her closely.

“Take one now,” she said handing her another, “It should help your migraine.”

Sethariel was surprised the woman had noticed and drank the red liquid offered. It was not the same as the potions her clan made and she was surprised to find after a few minutes her migraine had reduced to a mild headache and the flashing lights had stopped.

“ _At least I’ll be ready to stab a few demons in the face,_ ” she thought, drawing her weapons. “ _I really need to stab a few demons in the face._ ”

****

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fanfic ever, **_constructive_** criticism is appreciated.


	3. To Seal the Rift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sethariel makes her first attempt to close the breach. It doesn't go so well.

The charge with the soldiers was not as tough as Sethariel expected at first. It only took them a few minutes before they came upon another rift. She saw soldiers fighting demons, and several fell. Then another man, their leader, she guessed came running up. He was very tall and wearing some kind of long vest with fur or maybe feathers around the neck and shoulders over very shiny armor. He was also wearing a helmet shaped like a lion’s head with a long flowing mane.

“ _That has to be the stupidest looking armor ever. It’s shiny and fluffy._ ” Sethariel thought. She sucked her breathe in slowly through her teeth and leaned back a little, squinting at the gaudily armored man. Then she gave a small, angry smirk and attacked the nearest monster. “ _If we die, we die looking pretty._ ”

She slashed at a demon that had wounded a young soldier and skewered it with her dagger. Then she whacked it as hard as she could with her broken staff, backing it with a little energy discharge. She put her hand out to the kid and hauled her to her feet and propped her against a nearby wall before turning and sending a small fireball at a shade attacking Cassandra. She then saw a wraith heading for Varric, and ran over to stab it before it could attack the dwarf.

“Thanks!” he shouted to her and sent a barrage of crossbow darts into a large shade coming towards them.

Sethariel continued to fight her way across the battlefield toward the rift. As soon as the last demon was cleared out she raised her hand and concentrated on closing the rift. The rift closed more quickly than the first, though the aftershock still almost knocked her down.

“You’ve sealed the rift Lady Cassandra, well done.” a man said behind her.

“Actually Commander, this is the prisoner’s doing.” Cassandra replied, pointed towards Sethariel.

Sethariel turned to see the man with the silly armor. He had removed the ridiculous helmet; he had dark blonde hair, a large scar on his upper lip and cheek, and was glaring at her.

“ _Now I have some kind of lion-warrior man angry with me. My day keeps getting better and better._ ” Sethariel mused.

“I hope they are right about you. We’ve lost a lot of good people getting you here,” he said angrily.

“You’re not the only one hoping that.” Sethariel said, half under her breath. Cassandra frowned at her snarky tone but Solas smiled slightly.

“The way to the temple should be clear,” the Commander said to Cassandra ignoring Sethariel.

“Give us time, Commander.” Cassandra asked.

The man nodded and said “Maker watch over you, for all our sakes.” He turned signaling to his soldiers and they ran off away from the small group. He stopped to help the young soldier Sethariel had saved earlier half carrying her away.

“Come,” said Cassandra, “we need to hurry.”

Sethariel pushed her short, silvery hair away from her face. She was out of breath and covered in gore but full of energy from all the adrenaline coursing through her.

They ran the rest of the way to the temple. Charred and burning corpses were everywhere. The smell of burning bodies was sickening. Sethariel tried not to look at the faces warped in agony. Many looked like they had died screaming. The party stopped as the entered the temple. The inside of the temple was now a deep, smoking crater surrounded by crumbling walls. The rift in the center of the ruin was enormous and Sethariel wondered how she had survived it. Leliana and a squad of archers entered from another break in the walls.

“You’re here, thank the Maker,” she said and ordered her troop to take positions around the breach.

“I don’t think I can reach that,” Sethariel said nodding her head slightly in the direction of the rift.

“We must find a way down,” Cassandra agreed.

As the group picked their way through the rubble trying to find a safe way down, they came across large red crystals protruding from the ground and walls. The crystals made an odd humming, whispering noise. Sethariel didn’t like them.

“Uh oh, Seeker,” Varric said sounding nervous. “You know this is red lyrium, right?”

Cassandra gave an affirmative.

“Don’t touch it,” Varric warned Sethariel. “Not even by accident.”

Sethariel’s clan had heard rumors about some kind of poison lyrium in Kirkwall but hadn’t believed it to be true. Obviously it was, and if Varric was frightened it was probably pretty awful stuff. Solas postulated that the red lyrium could have been caused by the breach when suddenly strange, flat voices rang out through the ruin.

“Echos from the fade.” Solas said.

The first voice was deep and unpleasant. It spoke of victory and killing a sacrifice. The next voice was a woman calling for help.

“The Divine!” Cassandra cried out.

Then Sethariel heard her own voice asking what was going on and the woman asking for help again.

“Kill the elf,” the first voice said. Then there was silence.

“That was your voice, the most Holy called out to you. What happened? Who were those people?” Cassandra asked, sounding sad and desperate.

“I don’t know, I don’t remember.” Sethariel gave her head a small shake, confused by what she was hearing. She had no idea what had happened and the voices had made her feel uneasy.

They finally reached the crater floor but the rift didn’t seem to be doing anything.

“The rift appears to be dormant,” Solas explained. “You will need to re-open it then seal it properly. This, however, will probably attract attention on the other side.”

Sethariel frowned and nodded.

“That means demons, be ready!” Cassandra shouted to the archers surrounding the rift.

Sethariel took a deep breath, stepped forward, and raised her hand to the rift. It opened, slowly, then an enormous demon stepped out. It was large and scaly with horns and spikes covering its hide.

“Pride demon!” shouted Solas. “Watch out for its’ lightning whip.”

Sethariel ran back to put some distance between herself and the monster. It really did have a lightning whip. Sethariel circled trying to avoid the lightning bolts the demon threw. She was able to sneak behind it and running forward slashed at its’ heels. Then she jumped back and ran while the archers sent a hail of arrows down. The fight went on like this for some time before Sethariel realized it wasn’t working.

“ _Maybe I can try to disrupt the rift,_ ” she thought. She positioned herself near the rift but away from the demon and raised her hand. The same green light appeared, it lasted for a few seconds. Suddenly it stopped and a pulse came from the rift stunning the demon. She repeated this process, disrupting the rift then attacking for a brief period before pulling out and starting again. The battle seemed to last an eternity, but the demon finally went down.

“Close the rift, now!” Cassandra shouted.

Sethariel raised her hand and concentrated as hard as she could on closing the rift. The rift pulsed and began to shrink. Sethariel felt dizzy and lightheaded but kept concentrating. As the rift closed, a shockwave hit Sethariel and she lost consciousness.

****

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fanfic ever, **_constructive_** criticism is appreciated.


	4. The Herald of Andraste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sethariel awakes to find she is now considered the Herald of Andraste and the newborn Inquisition wants her help. Also, they finally ask her name!
> 
> ****  
> This is where I start to take more artistic license with the dialogue and such. I also changed things around so that the first war council happens directly after Sethariel first learns of the Inquisition. It made more sense to me that way.

“Is she going to be alright?” Cassandra asked worriedly.

She, Varric and Leliana were standing over Solas who was examining the elf woman unconscious in the ground. Solas had his fingers to her neck, checking her pulse.

“She is alive, but she is not well,” he shook his head, “We need to get her back to Haven while we still can.”

“She closed the rift, the breach has stopped growing,” Leliana said looking up.

“The girl did good,” Varric nodded.

“We didn’t even ask her name,” Cassandra added, her tone apologetic.

“Don’t cry yet Seeker, she’ll pull through. She’s tough,” The dwarf patted her arm. 

He was a little surprised when she gave him a small smile and said, “Thank you, Varric. I pray you are right.”

****

Rumors spread like wildfire through Haven. The elf girl who had stopped the expansion of the breach was a holy woman, chosen by the Maker. Andraste herself, the most holy prophet and bride of the Maker, had saved the elf from the breach. The Herald of Andraste, they called elf. The Maker had given her the power to stop the rifts. Cassandra and Leliana did nothing to stop the rumors. Leliana even encouraged it by carefully leaking more details.

Chancellor Rodrick was furious about this. He argued with the women about sending the elf off for a trial, conscious or not. They battled while Solas and Haven’s de facto healer, an alchemist named Adan, treated the woman as best they could. She had a high fever as well as a few cracked ribs and some minor injuries. What worried them most was that she still hadn’t regained consciousness. They took shifts, staying with her constantly administering treatments both magical and mundane. Cassandra visited her several times, obviously worried. It took three days for the fever to break. When it did, they let her sleep giving the servants instructions to inform Cassandra as soon as she woke.

****

Sethariel woke, her head throbbing. She opened her eyes expecting to see the ruins of the temple and was shocked to find herself in a small house. She sat up rather quickly, making herself dizzy.

“Ahh,” she said, clutching at her head. “Fenedhis.”

“I’m so sorry,” a young elf girl wailed.

“Oh, it’s alright, I…” Sethariel startled by the girl’s appearance.

“I’m so sorry,” the girl continued, throwing herself to the ground. “I am but a humble servant.”

“Get up,” Sethariel said as gently as possible. The poor thing was in obvious distress and it was making Sethariel uncomfortable. She crossed the room and raised the girl to her feet. “I take it they aren’t mad at me anymore?”

“Oh no, Lady Herald. Not at you. Oh, Lady Herald, I must go. I must report to Lady Cassandra. She said to as soon as you woke up,” The girl scurried toward the door.

“Wait,” Sethariel called, “Where is she?”

“In the Chantry. I have to go, she said immediately!” the girl shouted as she dashed out of the house.

“ _Lady Herald? What is that all about?_ ” Sethariel thought. 

She looked down at herself, she was wearing some kind of lightweight pajamas. She looked around the cabin and found some things in a small chest nearby. There were leather pants, a blouse, and a long, warm coat. Her boots were by the bed. She dressed quickly, the things fit fairly well, and exited the house intending to find Cassandra. She stopped as she walked out the door. The path to the Chantry was lined with villagers and soldiers alike. The soldiers were saluting. She blinked, stunned.

“ _What the? Creators, they’re saluting me._ ”

She looked up, the Breach was still in the sky but it was no bigger than before. Sethariel walked quickly toward the Chantry. She felt uncomfortable surround by the adoring crowd. They whispered and pointed as she passed.

“It’s the Herald!”

“That’s her, she slowed the breach!”

“The chosen one!”

“ _Herald again, and chosen one?_ ” she thought, bewildered.

When she reached the Chantry she was meet by priestesses and lay sisters murmuring and whispering in awe, just like the villagers.

“The Herald of Andraste!” one exclaimed reverently.

“ _Herald of Andraste? What in the blight are they one about!_ ”

She walked into the Chantry, there was a large door at the end of the main corridor. As she approached she could hear shouting. She recognized the voices. It was the spitting man from before and Cassandra. She stood outside and listened for a moment. The spitting man, Chancellor Rodrick, was arguing for her to be sent to Val Royeaux still. He claimed she didn’t close the breach on purpose. Cassandra, much to her surprise, was defending her. Sethariel took a deep breath and walked into the room.

“There she is, arrest her!” Spitting Man shouted to the guards standing near the door.

“Belay that and leave us,” Cassandra said. The guards left. Sethariel wasn’t surprised, Cassandra was a commanding presence.

Spitting Man started to protest again and Cassandra made another one of her disgusted noises.

“ _She makes a lot of those,_ ” Sethariel thought, fighting back a wry smile. She’d always had a twisted sense of humor.

Cassandra turned and grabbed a book off a nearby shelf and thumped it down on the large table in the middle of the room. The table had a large map of Thedas with some metal figures placed in various places, several of which fell when Cassandra threw the book down.

“This is the Divine’s own command, to restart the Inquisition of old.”

Spitting Man protested some more but left as Cassandra wouldn’t budge. Leliana stepped out of the corner she was lurking in and greeted Sethariel with a nod.

“I’m glad you’re awake. We were worried about you.” Cassandra said with a small smile. “I’m afraid we never asked before, but what is your name?”

Sethariel looked at her for a minute, “ _Now we’re supposed to be all friends and smiles?_ ” 

She gave the woman a long, searching look. She didn’t know what to make of these people yet, but lying wasn’t going to help. “ _Well, might as well tell her. I don’t particularly want to go out with those crazies outside again by myself. Besides, she stood up for me earlier with the spitting man._ ”

“Sethariel, of Clan Lavellan,” she said in the most formal tone she could muster.

“First to the clan’s Keeper,” she added after a moment. 

“ _They already know I’m a mage. Best to stick to the truth. Easier to remember than a lie._ ”

“I see,” said Cassandra, though it was obvious did not really know what Sethariel was talking about.

Cassandra and Leliana then explained that they were trying to resurrect something called the Inquisition of Old. They were having a hard time because the Chantry was fighting them. They needed her because she had slowed the growth of the breach and might be able to close it altogether. They claimed their Inquisition would help restore order, Sethariel listened, but was confused. She didn’t know much about the Chantry.

“What’s the ‘Inquisition of Old’?” Sethariel asked, she’d never heard of the Inquisition.

“Excuse me?” Leliana asked.

Sethariel repeated her question, slightly louder. She had always been quiet and the Keeper had often chastised her for muttering.

“The Inquisition predates the Chantry,” Cassandra explained.

“They were people who brought order to a world gone mad,” Leliana added, “After the Chantry was established, they became the Templar Order.”

“But the Templars have lost their way,” Cassandra said. “and the Inquisition is needed again.”

“ _The pre-templars? This doesn’t sound good,_ ” Sethariel thought, “ _In fact, it sounds like a very bad place for a mage to be._ ”

Sethariel knew about Templars, she wasn’t as frightened as some mages, but she knew about them. The Templars had never bothered Sethariel’s clan as far as she knew since they had always skirted the larger cities, only sending in small groups to get supplies if absolutely necessary. The Keeper knew many humans, dwarves, and elves throughout the Free Marches and all of them seemed to owe her favors. This network kept the clan informed on what villages were alright to visit and which merchants and farmers were save to trade with. The Keeper also seemed to know which palms to grease to keep the Templars from taking notice of the clan’s mages. Sethariel still knew enough to be afraid of them, though. As a teenager, she had even witnessed three of them capture and drag off a terrified young mage from a small village near the mountains. The kid had only been about nine, but the Templars had acted like the boy might suddenly turn into a great dragon and kill them. They had chained him up with enchanted shackles and literally dragged him to their waiting horses. One of the Templars had flung the child on the back of their horse and rode off. The child’s mother was sobbing, they hadn’t even told her which Circle they were taking the boy too. The Keeper went to the village that night and tried to comfort the mother promising to try to find where the boy had gone and help him get in contact with her, but Sethariel knew it was almost hopeless. The closest Circle was Kirkwall, and the stories that came from the city were terrible. The Keeper had miraculously been able to find the boy, though it took almost a year. He had sent letters to mother until shortly before the mage rebellion began. After that, no one knew what happened to him.

“And you need my help,” Sethariel asked, her eyebrows raised. These people  _had_  to be crazy.

“Yes, we do. You are the only one who can seal the Breach,” Cassandra said.

“You don’t have to stay,” Leliana added, “We will not force you.”

Cassandra agreed, but added, “Though many people still believe you are the one who caused the breach. We will protect you, but we can only do that if you stay with us.”

Sethariel thought for a moment, either they were crazy or in earnest. Though, they could be both. She stayed quiet for a long moment, thinking, “ _I can’t believe I’m agreeing to this. It’s insane! Run! I should run. But, but that could put my clan in danger…_ ” 

Her thoughts trailed off, she knew what she had to do even if she didn’t want to.

“Alright, I’ll help you,” she said, “But I’m going home as soon as we close this Breach.”

The women were pleased. They told her to wait a few minutes and they would bring the rest of the Inquisition leaders and introduce them. Leliana and Cassandra left, leaving Sethariel alone. She just stood there waiting for them to return. She sat down in a chair in the corner.

“ _I’ve completely lost control of my life,_ ” she thought, holding her head in her hands for a minute. Then she stood up straight and tried to regain some semblance of control. As she waited, Sethariel flexed the hand with the mark, grimacing a little. The hand was sore and the mark itched like a half-healed wound. One top of that, it was worrying. Cassandra came back into the room.

“Your mark, does it bother you?” Cassandra asked.

“I just wish I knew what it was and where it came from,” she replied with a frustrated sigh. “Besides, it itches,” she muttered.

“What’s important is your mark is stable now, as is the breach. You’ve given us time and Solas believes a second attempt might succeed, given we can give the mark more power. He believes it will take the same amount of magical energy that created the breach to close it again,” explained Casandra.

“Oh yes, pouring enormous quantities of power into something we don’t understand sound like a brilliant idea,” Sethariel replied, her tone scathingly sarcastic.  

She regretted it as soon as it came out of her mouth but to her surprise the woman smiled.

“Keep that sense of humor,” she said, “You’ll need it.”

The large door opened again and three people entered: Leliana, the commander with the fluffy armor, and a pretty woman in an ugly, puffy-sleeved, yellow dress. They took up stations on the other side of the large table with the map.

“The Commander of our forces, Cullen, you have met,” Cassandra said, gesturing to the man.

He was quite handsome, with dark blonde hair and honey colored eyes. He bowed, smiling at Sethariel saying, “It was only for a moment on the battlefield. I’m glad you’re alive.”

“ _Not as glad as I am,_ ” she retorted in her head. But she didn’t say it out loud, she did have some manners after all.

Cassandra then introduced the other woman. She had dark hair, very tan skin, and a lovely smile. “This is Josephine Montilyet of Antiva, our ambassador.”

The woman smiled at Sethariel and gave her an elven greeting, “Andaran atishan.”

“You speak elvhen?” Sethariel asked, quite surprised by the greeting.

“Uh, no,” Josephine admitted, “I’m afraid that was all I know.”

Cassandra made yet another annoyed sound.

“Leliana you already know,” Cassandra said, moving the introductions along. The woman was not one to waste time.

“My position here is a matter of some sensitivity,” Leliana began.

“She’s our spymaster,” Cassandra interrupted.

Leliana glared. “Cassandra!” she scolded.

Sethariel raised a hand to her face, faking a small cough, to cover her smile. She was starting to like Cassandra.

“ _Those are some fancy titles,_ ” Sethariel thought, “ _Bit pretentious, though. Fenedhis, don’t blurt that out!_ ”

“I am Sethariel, First of Clan Lavellan. It’s nice to meet all of you,” Sethariel murmured, then gave a slight bow as an afterthought..  

The four humans looked at her expectantly, like they were waiting for something amazing to happen. Sethariel felt the tips of her ears grow warm from the unwanted scrutiny. After a moment of silence she decided to ask the question that had been bothering her.

“What exactly is it that the people are saying about me? I heard a few refer to me a - a Herald?”

“They think you are the Herald of Andraste,” Josephine said.

“The soldiers saw a woman with you when you came out of the breach. Now that you have stopped it from growing, they think it was Andraste. They think the Maker chose you to help them, to save them,” Cassandra added.

Sethariel was shocked. “That’s…” she started.

“ _That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard._ ”

“Even if we tried to stop the rumors,” Leliana said.

“Which we have not,” Cassandra cut in with a snort.

“Which we haven’t,” Leliana continued with a glare, “Everyone is talking about you and it gives people hope.”

“The Chantry, however, doesn’t approve. Especially since you are a Dalish mage. They have denounced you and the Inquisition as heretics,” Josephine said as she scribbled something down in her notes.

“That was fast,” Sethariel said with a sigh, thinking of Spitting Man. “So, I’m the problem the Chantry has with the Inquisition?” She didn’t even try to keep the edge of scorn out of her voice.

Cassandra snorted, and muttered something about Chancellor Roderick under her breath.

“No. The Chantry would have denounced the Inquisition anyway. You are merely added to our list of grievances. Though, they are trying to make you seem like a dangerous apostate,” replied Commander Cullen, “They have also started insinuating you’re a blood mage.”

“That story is ridiculous. Besides, we need you,” added Cassandra.

Sethariel rubbed her temples, “ _I can barely start a campfire with magic and now I’m a dangerous blood mage?_ ” Today was getting better and better.

“The Herald of Andraste. How do you feel about that?” the Commander added with a smile.

“ _How do I feel? How do you bloody think I feel!_ ” she wanted to scream. 

She shook her head, a small gesture, this situation was so absurd. Her, the Herald of Andraste? Chosen by the Maker to save the world? Might as well chalk it up to Fen’Harel, the trickster god and bringer of nightmares, “ _Sounds like his kind of mythical shit._ ”

“It’s unsettling, to say the least,” she replied quietly, she felt drained both physically and emotionally.

The commander laughed, it was dry and sardonic, “Yes, well. The Chantry seems to agree with you.”

“Unfortunately,” said Josephine, gently guiding them back to the purpose of their meeting, “it also means that we don’t have enough influence to approach with the Templars or the Mages yet.” Josephine added.

“Why do you want to approach Templars and Mages?” Sethariel asked, feeling overwhelmed. 

Too much was being thrown at her too quickly and her head felt heavy and her thoughts were still fuzzy. She felt like each thought and each word had to wade through a swamp to be processed. And she was hungry.

“We need to decide who to approach to help us close the breach,” Josephine explained, “If we can gain enough influence, it shouldn’t be too difficult to get one of them to join us.” 

It made sense to Sethariel now, Cassandra had said they wanted to fuel the mark somehow.

“We should approach the mages, we need their magic to power the mark,” Cassandra said.

Cullen shook his head, “No, we should approach the Templars.”

“I disagree,” said Leliana.

Sethariel had a feeling an old fight was starting up again.

“The Templars could suppress the break, making it easier to close.”

Cassandra made another disgusted noise.

“You don’t know that.” Leliana interjected. “You’re only guessing.”

“ _Definitely an old argument,_ ” Sethariel thought.

“I was a Templar,” Cullen replied angrily, “I know what they are capable of!”

Sethariel stepped back quickly, without thinking, giving herself room to defend herself if needed. The humans noticed. The commander’s face was suddenly apologetic.

“Now is not the time for this argument,” said Josephine. “We wouldn’t be able to get either group to talk to us right now. We need to focus on building our relationships and gaining influence.”

“We need you to go to the Hinterlands, to Redcliffe, and help stabilize the situation there,” Cullen said, the anger from his voice gone.

“What situation?” Sethariel asked, still trying to keep up.

“Rogue Templars and rebel Mages have been fighting, they’ve turned the place into a war zone,” replied Leliana.

“I’m supposed to stabilize the situation? I’m not sure how much of a help I’ll be,” Sethariel couldn’t believe what they were asking.

“There is also a Mother Giselle there who wants to meet with you. She says she wants to help us, but you need to meet with her in person. She knows much more than I about the people involved in the Chantry’ current political situation, we need her.”

“Also, the old Horse Master of Redcliffe lives in the area,” Cullen added. “We need horses and his are the best. Try to recruit him, and anyone else of use, into the inquisition.”

“I will be accompanying you,” Cassandra said. “Would you be up to leaving in the morning?” she asked, noticing how tired the other woman looked.

Sethariel nodded, resigned, “Tomorrow morning is fine.”

“Go get some rest then and some food,” Cassandra said. “I’ll make the arrangements.”

****

Sethariel got something to eat then went for a walk. The people in Haven were still staring at her. She wandered around a little then spotted Varric by a large fire.

“Hey there, now that you’re out of earshot of Cassandra, how are you holding up?” the dwarf asked with a friendly smile, “You’ve gone from Thedas’ most wanted to an honored member of the army of the faithful. Most people would spread that out over more than a day.”

Sethariel bit back a sarcastic response and thought for a moment, and decided the dwarf would probably appreciate her candor. “ _The Keeper told me to be careful about how I talked to these people but Cassandra has already surprised me, maybe Varric will too. Besides, if Hawke is anything like the way Varric wrote her in his book my sarcasm will seem quite mild. And I’m about at the end of my patience._ ” 

He wasn’t an elf but he wasn’t human either and something about Solas made her uncomfortable. Besides, he had been nice to her, so far. She couldn’t do this on her own. No one is an island, the Keeper would say. Besides at this point, she couldn’t get into any more trouble than she already was.

“Yes, well. I‘m busy the rest of the week, so I figured I try to get it all done today,” she said in a low tone, dripping with sarcasm and matter-of-factly crossed her arms.

Varric laughed, “I knew I liked you! But, really are you ok? I’ve known enough heroes in my time to know they need someone to talk too.”

“I have no idea what’s going on,” she sighed bitterly. “They think I’ve been sent by their god to save them and I don’t even know how I ended up in this mess.”

“Heroes never do,” Varric said, his voice a bit sad.

Sethariel sat down, her legs crossed in front of her. She was very confused and more than a little angry. But mostly she felt tired, it rolled over her like waves and she resisted the urge to let her eyes close. She looked in to the fire for a moment, Sethariel wanted to be done with this hero talk. It made her feel like an object instead of a person. So she turned to face the dwarf and asked quietly, “Varric, can I ask you a personal question?”

The dwarf nodded.

“Are you going to write another of the Hard in Hightown books?”

Varric gave her a funny look, he was obviously shocked by the question, “What?”

“Your crime drama, murder mystery books. I quite enjoy those.”

“Really? I didn’t know the Dalish read them.” Varric was still shocked.

Sethariel laughed softly, his expression was hilarious. It was less a laugh and rather a small noise of air being blown quickly out of her noise. Despite how odd it sounded it was a genuine laugh, it made her feel a little more normal. 

“Not all the Dalish, so don’t let your head get any bigger. My clan has though, and they’re my personal favorite. I like trying to figure out who committed the crime before the guards. I usually can, too. I quite enjoyed the ‘Tale of the Champion’ but…” she trailed off, thinking about how phrase what she wanted to say.

“It’s ok, authors have to be to take criticism,” Varric encouraged, giving her a smile.

Sethariel looked at the dwarf, her green eyes narrowed, “I think you’ve ridiculously exaggerated most of it.”

“You don’t believe Hawke did all those things?” Varric said, pretending to be hurt.

“Oh no, I know she did them. I just don’t think it was nearly so… so glamorous as you’ve made it. Real life is messy and has boring parts, which you conveniently left out. Besides,” she said shaking her head, “there are things in there for which you would not have been present. And…” she exaggerated the word, her tone highly sarcastic again, ”people don’t really have sparkles and cherry blossoms trailing behind them as they kill a high dragon.”

Varric laughed, “True enough. I did take a little artistic license here and there. But the heart of it is true, and that’s what matters.”

“Maybe. It certainly wouldn’t have been as good of a story if you had devoted several chapters to the Champion of Kirkwall washing her laundry or polishing her armor.”

“Now you getting the idea, kid. I have a question for you, though, if it’s ok.”

“Sure,” she replied, with a small shrug, “You’ve answered mine.” It seemed a fair trade.

“Why do you talk like that?”

She looked confused for a moment, “Like what?” Then she realized what he meant, “Oh, you mean I don’t have a Dalish accent.”

Varric nodded, “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’ve known some Dalish. They don’t sound like you.”

Sethariel gave a slight nod. “I was taught to speak this way, without a Dalish accent. It’s useful to be able to blend in a little better when the clan needs supplies from a town or village. The shemlans don’t see city elves as a threat. So, seem less Dalish, seem less of a threat. Reading your books, along with lots of others and a dictionary, was part of the training.”

“My books, educational?” Varric gasped.

“Only when it was discovered that I spoke like an overly self-important, historical treatise. The accent I got from listening and practice. It came out a little more...” she waved her hand in a minute, slightly distracted gesture, “fancy than originally intended. I couldn’t change that but your books helped me to make my speech pattern more normal.”

“Is that why you were chosen to come here?”

“Part of the reason,” Sethariel looked back into the fire. “Also, being the First it was part of my responsibility to protect the clan. We needed to know how the peace talks turned out, to make plans if a war started in earnest.” 

She didn’t know why she was telling Varric all of this but he was oddly comforting in a way that just made her tell him everything and in more detail than she would have liked. Tricky little dwarf, he was just one of those people to whom everyone spilled their life story. She could see now how he had ingratiated himself with the Inquisition so easily.  

“How long have you been First?” Varric asked sitting down next to the elven woman.

“Not long. A few years ago the old First, Esrea, left to become the Keeper of another clan who didn’t have one. That’s when my Keeper promoted me. The only competition was of the ripe old age of six. She still would have probably done better than me, my magic is rubbish.”

“I doubt that,” Varric said with a smile.

“Could be worse,” she said, while she rubbed her left ear. “I could have ended up the supposed herald of a god I don’t believe in. Oh, wait, I did.” Her tone was flat and mocking.

Varric laughed but said in a more serious tone, “Don’t worry, things could always be worse.”

Sethariel nodded, she knew that was true, “Cassandra and I are leaving for the Hinterlands tomorrow. I’m supposed to help stabilize the situation.”

“Need me to come?”

Sethariel looked at him, her shock was evident. “Would you?” she asked.

“I wouldn’t volunteer, otherwise,” he said, “You don’t want to spend weeks on end with only the Seeker for company. Besides, how am I supposed to write a book about the Herald of Andraste if I miss all of her amazing adventures?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really felt there had to be a reason why my Dalish Quizzy had a super-posh, upper-crusty British accent. (Looking at that sentence I have come to see I may have been doing to much Sera dialogue.) The voice acting is beautiful, but not what I was expecting. I guess I got to used to Merril's cute Welsh accent and speech pattern. There will be a whole story behind this in time but you start to get the idea here.
> 
> Also, as to Seth's suspicion of Solas, it is based on the fact the first time I played the game, having no idea who he was, I didn't trust him. Something about him just whispered "Liar". Bioware had already tried to break my heart so many times, I was paranoid. I felt bad after after a while and started to trust him. Then my suspicions were vindicated and I felt stupid. Thanks Bioware, thanks so much.
> 
> ****  
> This is my first fanfic ever, **_constructive_** criticism is appreciated.


	5. To the Hinterlands!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter in which Sethariel, the new Herald of Andraste, travels to the Hinterlands. (I'm really bad at this chapter summary thing.)
> 
>  
> 
> *Added the new chapter a little early. Updates will generally come once a week. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've rearranged some of the events a little, so she finds Blackwall in her first trip to the Hinterlands and secures the horses. It makes sense to stretch it out in the game, but not in the story.
> 
> ****  
> Sorry about having Hinterlands misspelt earlier. I think it was a Freudian slip, because the Hinterlands "hinder" your progress... Ah, bad pun. Sorry. Honestly though, you should have seen how many times I messed up the spelling of Ferelden! :)

The next morning, Sethariel rose early. Not that she could sleep very well anyway between her anxiety over her new position and the pain in her hand. She went to the little tavern to get breakfast and found Cassandra and Varric already there sitting across from each other at one of the medium sized tables. They had obviously had an argument. Cassandra looked peeved, while Varric looked smug so he must have won.

“ _Obviously, he got her to agree to let him come,_ ” Sethariel suppressed a giggle, “ _Creators, they seem to fight like an old, married couple._ ” 

Sethariel got some oatmeal and tea from the counter and sat down next to Varric.

“Does he really have to come?” Cassandra asked, her tone one of exasperation.

“Yes,” Sethariel replied simply, taking a sip of her tea. She was not going to argue with the woman.

Solas joined them, sitting across from Sethariel.

“I too think it is a good idea, Seeker,” the other elf said. “He could prove invaluable, especially since we have no reason to believe this will be a completely peaceful trip.”

“You’re coming too?” Sethariel asked quietly, her turn to feel a little peeved, though she keep her face neutral. 

She didn’t know why she had a bad feeling about the elf. She didn’t even know him, and he had helped her without asking for anything. Yet, she couldn’t help feeling that he looked at her like a specimen ready for dissection. That made Sethariel feel a little guilty, which in turn made her like him less. It was a vicious cycle.

“Yes, I will be accompanying you,” Solas replied. 

He had a feeling she didn’t like him. She had never said anything and they had only ever spoken when trying to seal the breach. He couldn’t read her through her seemingly perpetually almost neutral expression. The expression wasn’t quite neutral though, as she was always slightly frowning. It made her look a bit angry but it matched the slightly acerbic tone her voice tended to have, so perhaps she was angry. “ _She looks at everyone like that. What is she thinking?_ ”

****

The group finished breakfasting and Cassandra lead them to the supply officer, who had packs ready for their journey. While the others checked the packs and added some personal items, Leliana pulled Sethariel aside for a moment. She explained hurriedly that the Grey Wardens had been disappearing but she had a lead on one near Redcliffe, by the name of Blackwall. Leliana wanted Sethariel to try and contact him, to find out what had happened to the other Wardens. Sethariel agreed, Cassandra scowled and Solas seemed a little ruffled. Cassandra scowled at everything, so Sethariel dismissed that but she wondered why Solas would have a problem with Grey Wardens. Their job was literally to kill Darkspawn and stop blights, it was a good thing.

The newborn Inquisition didn’t have enough many horses, so the party would have to walk to the Hinterlands. Cassandra explained it would take at least a week. Sethariel wasn’t exactly happy, but resigned herself to more walking. She was used to walking anyway.

The quickest path down to the main road on foot was a narrow track through the forest so they walked single file. The first few hours passed in silence. Cassandra led the group and Varric took the back with the two elves in the middle.  When they reached the road, Varric moved to the front to annoy the Seeker. Sethariel had asked Cassandra earlier what a Seeker was and she had explained about the order of the Seekers of Truth. They served the Chantry as a sort of secret police, rooting out corruption and protecting their faith from threats both internal and external. 

“ _The Seeker of Truth and the Teller of Tales. What an odd pair._ ”

Solas was walking next to her. She heard him clear his throat, “So, the Herald of Andraste. A hero chosen by the Maker to save us.” he said in an amused tone.

“Am I riding in on a shining steed?”she asked with a snort, raising her eyebrow. She was starting to hate that title already.

He laughed, surprised at her response, “I would have suggested a griffon but, sadly they are extinct.” 

Sethariel smiled slightly at his unexpected quip.

“Joke as you will, posturing is necessary,” he paused for a moment, “I have journeyed deep into the fade in ancient ruins and battlefields to see the dreams of lost civilizations. I have seen spirits reenact bloody battles both infamous and forgotten. Every great war has its heroes, I am curious what kind you will be.”

“Wait, you sleep in ancient ruins to study the fade? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“I set wards, and if you leave food out for the giant spiders they are usually content to live and let live,” Solas relied brightly.

Sethariel couldn’t help but laugh one of her odd airy laughs, “But you study the fade, that’s interesting. I’ve never heard of anyone doing that.” 

Now she was curious, she’d read a few old books that referenced somniari, mages who could influence dream, but they were supposed to be a myth. Sethariel peppered him for the next several hours with questions about his journeys and studies. He seemed all too happy to answer them, she couldn’t help but find his research interesting.

By the time they stopped for lunch, Sethariel felt more comfortable around the other elf. She still felt like he was hiding something, and she still didn’t trust him but had decided to respect his privacy. He had been an apostate and had been hiding from the templars for years, so that could be part of why he was so secretive, she supposed. Spending one’s whole life running and hiding would make a person rather suspicious and he seemed genuinely interested in helping.

As they settled down for lunch, Varric sat down next to Solas. Cassandra and Sethariel chatted as they went down to a little stream nearby to get water.

“Getting along better with our little Herald?” the dwarf prodded.

“We ‘get along’ just fine, Master Tethras.”

“I have a feeling she didn’t like you much but you seemed to have won her over with your Fade talk, Chuckles.”

Solas rolled his eyes, but knew the dwarf was right. The young woman had disliked him, he didn’t know why. However, she was very interested in his research and it had seemed to have made her more amicable. Varric grinned at him.

“What’s going on here?” Cassandra asked, as she and Sethariel came back with in view. “If he gives you too much trouble Solas, you have my permission to smite him with your magic. As long as I can watch.”

Varric looked wounded and Cassandra gave him a wicked smile.

“Really Seeker, I thought you cared enough to smite me yourself.” 

Sethariel gave a small snort of laughter, the human and dwarf were too funny together. Cassandra shot her a look that screamed, “ _Don’t encourage him._ ”

“We should probably eat quickly and go,” she said wryly, while not looking either in the face.

****

The journey to the Hinterlands was fairly uneventful. They got a few messages from Haven via Raven, updating them on the situation with the Chantry, but it had remained unchanged. They finally arrived at the scout camp in the morning of their eighth day of walking. They were greeted by the leader of the scout forces, Scout Harding, a pretty, young dwarven woman. She was excited to meet Sethariel and greeted her warmly, if awkwardly. Varric, of course, made a joke by asking if she had ever been to Hightown in Kirkwall. Scout Harding didn’t understand the reference and Sethariel was proud that she was able to keep a straight face. 

Harding had grown up in the Hinterlands and was able to give them very detailed map of the area. She also updated them on the situation between the Templars and the mages.

“The fighting is getting worse but we’ve been trying to push them away from the refugees a little,” she explained. “We could use your help, they keep attacking the refugees at the crossroads periodically. Mother Giselle is with them. If you can clear it out, we should be able to keep them back. Our forces are just spread too thin and we don’t have the force to fight off Mages and Templars.” Harding shrugged, “I haven’t seen the Warden you’re looking for, but we’ll keep our eyes open and get word to you as soon as we find anything.”

“The faster we do this, the faster we get back to Haven,” Cassandra said and the group set off down the path to the crossroads.

****

The fight with the mages and Templars didn’t take very long. Both groups were completely disorganized. They couldn’t decide who they wanted to attack more, each other or the outsiders. Both Solas and Cassandra tried to reason with them, but it was an utter failure. These weren’t people who believed in order or freedom, they just wanted a fight. It was like trying to turn a bar brawl into an organized debate.

Sethariel wiped her knife off with a rag after she stuck it in the last Templar. The Templars had obviously been shocked that she hadn’t been fazed by them draining her mana. It was also obvious that they hadn’t fought with a mage of any skill in a long time, given how quickly Solas was able to take them down. The mages had been just as easy, they flung their magic around wildly making it easy for Cassandra and Varric had picked them off quickly with a little support from their mages. Sethariel decided that she would have to have Solas teach her how to make those energy barriers he used to protect the group.

Mother Giselle hurried over. She was a tall, dark woman with a heavy Orlesian accent. She offered to help the Inquisition because they were the only group working towards peace. Sethariel accepted her offer, though she didn’t trust her, and sent her to the scout camp to be escorted back to Haven.

“We need to find the Horse Master next,” Sethariel stated bluntly, “We can’t keep walking everywhere.” 

Not that she really wanted horses, but they were going to run her all around Thedas. She just knew they would.

****

The Horse Master was actually not too hard to find, though the group had to fight their way through the thickest part of the Mage-Templar conflict. Master Dennet lived on a large farm near a small river. He let them set up a camp on the edge of his property and agreed to supply them with horses if they helped secure the surrounding area. The farmers and refugees wanted watch towers built to keep an eye out for attacks from the rebel mages and Templars.

There was also a wolf pack that had gone mad after the rift had opened and was attacking anything that moved. Solas suggested they deal with that first, as he suspected a demon was responsible. Sethariel agreed, and they were able to track the pack down. It was indeed a demon that had caused the problem. Once it was slain, the wolves returned to normal. They even seemed grateful to have been freed. It saddened Sethariel that they had had to kill so many wolves though. 

The Dalish were superstitious and feared wolves because of their connection to Fen’Harel. Many human and elves in the Free Marches feared them too. Sethariel had always liked them, they were intelligent and majestic animals.

“We need to make sure we kept an eye out for any orphaned pups and return them to the pack. They take care of them.” Sethariel said. 

It was the least they could do for the pack. It wasn’t their fault the demon had been controlling them. Cassandra and Varric nodded, the wolves were essential to keeping the nug population in the area down. Nugs were not indigenous and were a serious pest problem on the farms in the area since they could easily decimate crops.

“What?” said Solas. He gave Sethariel an odd look.

“We need to watch out for any orphaned or lost wolf pups. The pack will take care of them. Is that a problem?” she pursed her lips. 

She wasn’t sure if he hadn’t heard her or disapproved of the plan. But if it came to it, she was ready for an argument. He had seemed sympathetic to the wolves plight before, but she was used to wolves being treated with fear.

“No,  merely surprising. It is a good thing you’re doing, da’len,” he gave her a warm smile.

Sethariel raised an eyebrow and tilted her head slightly to one side, frowning slightly. It was not the response she had expected. But then, nothing had gone the way she had expected since she left her clan.

****

All together it took the band several weeks to clean up the Hinterlands. Several rifts had opened in the area and needed to be closed as soon as possible. Closing rifts left Sethariel exhausted, so they would rest after dealing with one. It was getting easier though, and by time she had closed the last rift they had found, she only needed a few minutes to rest after.

It was two and a half weeks after they had arrived in the Hinterlands when Scout Harding sent word that she thought she had found Blackwall. He was deep in the woods helping some locals fight off bandits. Cassandra made it very plain that she wanted to get the Warden and leave as soon as possible, so the group left right away.

Warden Blackwall was easy to spot. He was an enormous man, tall and wide, with a thick black beard. He reminded Sethariel of a black bear. Blackwall was trying to teach some nervous looking young men how to defend themselves against bandits. 

Sethariel called out to him, “Warden Blackwall?” He turned to reply when an arrow landed in the shield he was carrying.

“Come on men, lets drive them off!” he shouted turning to his trainees. 

Sethariel, Cassandra, Solas, and Varric helped them fight the bandits off. They were remarkably well armored and fairly well trained.

“Not ordinary bandits,” Cassandra hissed to Sethariel, as the fight ended. Sethariel nodded, this was something the Inquisition should look into.

Warden Blackwall gave his men a little pep talk, telling them to collect the things the bandits had stolen and go home. He then turned on Sethariel.

“How do you know me?” he growled.

“I’m an agent of the Inquisition,” she was not going to introduce herself as the Herald of Andraste. It was ridiculous. “I was sent to find you, Warden Blackwall.”

“The Inquisition? This, I wasn’t expecting. Why are you looking for me?”

“No one expects the Inquisition,” Sethariel said with a small, sardonic smile. “We’re looking for the Grey Wardens,” her expression became more serious as did her tone. The disappearance of the wardens was a serious matter, “Since the events at the Temple of Sacred Ashes, they’ve been disappearing en masse.”

“I didn’t know,” the man said, startled, “I heard about what happened at the temple, but not about the wardens. I’m a recruiter, but since the blight ended I spend most of my time alone.” He paused, a grim expression on his face, “Wait, do you think the Wardens are involved with what happened to the Divine?” His tone was angry.

“I’m not accusing anyone,” Sethariel said flatly, a hot bubble of anger rising up. She had got very tired of being accused of things over the last few weeks but now was not the time to lose her temper, “Look, I’m just trying to find the Wardens. The Inquisition could use their help.”

Blackwall looked thoughtful, studying her and her companions, “Thinking the Wardens are gone when they are needed is almost as bad as thinking they killed the Divine. I’ll help you.”

Sethariel was pleased that for once something had been fairly easy. It hadn’t even involved running around playing at errand girl to get him to help. They headed back to the nearest Inquisition camp with their newest member. As they walked, Sethariel asked about the Grey Wardens. She didn’t know much except they stopped blights and fought Darkspawn. She also knew the story of the Hero of Ferelden, but Blackwall had never met her. He answered her questions as best he could but didn’t have much to offer. He had no idea how to contact the other Wardens except to try their base of operations, Weisshaupt Fortress in the Anderfells, but that was a thousand miles away.

When they got to camp, it was Blackwall’s turn to ask questions. He asked about the Inquisition, how things were progressing, and what Sethariel’s role was. He was shocked to find out she was the Herald.

“I thought…” he said slowly.

“I’d be human?” she asked, eyebrow raised the left side of her mouth quirking up slightly in a half smile. Her tone was slightly amused. After almost three weeks in the Hinterlands, she had met with that response many times. She’d quickly become used to the fact that people were shocked and sometimes appalled by the fact she was Dalish. Sethariel didn’t really care. The world might be ending and she was going to do her best to help stop it. The people condemning her because she was an elf and a mage were not worth her time. Results were what counted. .

“Well, yes,” the giant man admitted sheepishly.

“It’s ok,” she said, giving him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “At least you’re honest. A lot of people are all smiles to my face and call me a dirty knife-ear as soon as my back is turned. They don’t realize these pointy ears hear quite well. Well, one pointy ear,” she pointed to her left ear, grinning a little at her own joke.

Blackwall bristled, “People really call you that? Other members of the Inquisition?”

“A few. Mostly it’s been villagers who blame me for what happened to the Divine, but are too scared to say anything to my face. They fear some kind of Divine wrath,” Sethariel sighed. 

She was used to the prejudices of humans and elves and dwarves. It was stupid, but not unexpected.

“You’ve done a lot of good here though, even if not everyone appreciates it,” Blackwall said softly. He felt bad for the girl. She looked so young and tiny, almost frail looking.

“I know, but thanks for saying it. I’m going to go rest. We’re starting the ride back to Haven in the morning,” she grimaced.

“Something wrong?” the warden asked.

“I don’t ride.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first fanfic ever, **_constructive_** criticism is appreciated.


	6. Nicknames and Fringe Benefits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seth gets back to Haven from the Hinterlands. She is sick of being called 'Herald' all the time and requests a nickname.
> 
> ****  
> This chapter is pretty short, the next is quite a bit longer.

Sethariel was very happy to get back to Haven. Cassandra had been shocked to learn that Sethariel didn’t know how to ride and had insisted on teaching her while they were in the Hinterlands. Dalish were famous among all the races for their giant harts, it was unheard of for one of them to not know how to ride. Her companions had pestered her until she finally told them the story of how she had broken her collarbone and her arm, in three places, when she was four by falling two feet out of a stationary aravel. The Keeper had forbidden her to learn to ride after, fearing the little girl would break her neck. She had said it was tempting fate too much. Everyone had laughed, even Solas chuckled, and the laughter had only increased when they realized it was completely true. Varric had actually taken notes during her story. It seemed that a novel of her life really was in the works.

Sethariel shocked herself by actually picking up riding fairly quickly. It was strangely enjoyable too, but the ride back had been exhausting. She ached all over, but at least they were back at Haven. She had been assigned a cabin all to herself with a large fireplace. She was looking forward to making a large fire and taking a long rest.

The group was met at the gates of Haven by the three advisers. Sethariel was very stiff and Blackwall had to help her dismount. Leliana then pounced upon the warden, actually sounding excited to meet him, and dragged him off for a full debriefing on the Grey Wardens. Josephine laughed at her friend’s enthusiasm and informed them that they needed to have a meeting as important information had come to light.

“I think we shall schedule this for the first thing in the morning,” Josephine said, “You all need rest and Leliana won’t be ready for hours.”

Commander Cullen called over a soldier who took the horses for them. He gave Sethariel a small, awkward smile which crinkled the scar on his lip then pulled Cassandra aside for updates on the military situation. 

The commander confused Sethariel. He had seemed so self assured with his troops and when he’d been in the war council. Combined with him being an ex-templar, she’d been a bit wary of him. Now, he seemed awkward and shy which was not what she expected at all.

Solas and Varric seemed to have disappeared, so Sethariel limped into the village with Josephine.

“Any way I could get a hot bath?” Sethariel asked suddenly, as she eased her way up the village steps. She wished there was a hot spring nearby.

“Of course!” Josephine smiled, “I actually already have one being prepared for you. Cassandra told us in her message you didn’t know how to ride. I have some special bath salts for you too, they will help your muscles relax.”

“Josephine, you are a wonder,” Sethariel was thankful for Cassandra's unexpected thoughtfulness.

Josephine laughed, it reminded Sethariel of tinkling bells. She showed Sethariel to bathing area they had set up. Two hours later, clean and relaxed, Sethariel headed over to the tavern to get some food. She found Varric and Solas there and sat with them.

****

Varric had watched the elven woman closely over the last few weeks. It was sometimes almost painful how much she reminded him of Hawke. Varric still worried about Hawke, she was his best friend, as close to him as a sister. He was starting to worry a lot about the Herald too. She was young and had so much piled on her, even more than Hawke at the beginning. Mostly, he was afraid that this whole Inquisition would end in tears, just like Kirkwall.

Sethariel was snickering in her breathy way at the song the minstrel in the corner was singing. She had the oddest laugh, it was usually just air and no sound. The song was a dreadfully depressing and sappy thing about dying lovers. Varric smiled at her quiet, jesting insults just under her breath and in rhythm with the song. He had heard this particular one before, he and Hawke disliked it too.

“Why would she pick that of all things? Something happy would be a better choice,” she murmured, rolling her eyes as she slipped out of her chair and headed over to the singing woman. They whispered for a few moments, then the minstrel started a perky tune and Sethariel sat back down.

“It seems the minstrel has seen reason,” Solas stated, his eyebrows raised.

“Yes, well this Herald of Andraste thing seems to have some benefits.”

Varric laughed, “Sometimes you really remind me of Hawke, Herald.”

“Thanks, I think. But, Varric, you have to stop calling me ‘Herald’,” Sethariel said firmly, giving a slight shake of her head in exasperation. She hated being called Herald. “Call me Seth, Sethariel, one of your fun nicknames, whatever you want, but do not call me Herald.”

“Fun nicknames, huh?” asked the dwarf, obviously amused. 

Solas gave an exasperated look which Sethariel responded to with another eye roll.

“Well, I rather like them,” the little elf leaned forward a little and pitched her voice lower, wry amusement lacing her words, “They make things less tense and they are rather hilarious. Honestly though, if you don’t stop calling me Herald I will start calling you Shorty.” 

A devilish grin curled the corners of her mouth, emphasizing the scar on her cheek.

She got up, “Think about it, Shorty” she said with a softly. “I have an early meeting so I’m off to bed early.”

“ _So, what would be a good nickname for the Herald? I don’t have any ideas, I might just have to call her by her name. Damn, this really is starting to be Hawke all over again,_ ” thought Varric as he watched walk away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Seth is quite a klutz. I promise the missing chunk of her left ear will be explained. Just not yet. :)
> 
> Also, Seth comes from a "progressive" clan (at least her Keeper is forward thinking). This is kind of my head-cannon to explain why a Dalish Inquisitor seems to have no problems integrating into the mainly human society of the Inquisition.
> 
>  
> 
> ****  
> This is my first fanfic ever, **_constructive_** criticism is appreciated.


	7. Questioning Beliefs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra and Sethariel have an honest conversation about whether or not she is the Herald of Andraste. Also, Solas tries to help Sethariel mediate, but it doesn't go very well and she is getting really tired of being called da'len.

Seth’s magic was growing stronger, slowly but steadily. But, she still had trouble controlling her connection to her mana. Solas had offered to help her continue her training and she had accepted his offer. She was worried that she would be liability in the battles they so often found themselves thrown into.

“Stop fidgeting. Meditation should be quiet and focusing. Only when your mind is quiet will you be able to increase your control over your flow of mana,” Solas reprimanded.

Sethariel and Solas were sitting beside Haven’s frozen lake as the sun rose, trying to meditate.

“I’m trying!” she was getting angry.

“No, you’re not. Calm your thoughts, focus only on your breathing. See the light that is your breath.” 

They had been practicing the same breathing exercises and meditation every morning since she had had joined the Inquisition. Seth knew it was supposed her improve her magic skills but it was hard and so far she had seen no results. She couldn’t turn her thoughts off, “ _How were you even supposed to do that?”_  

The Keeper had tried to teach her to meditate but she had failed miserably, Solas wasn’t faring much better. Telling Seth to see the light that was her breath certainly wasn’t helping.

Seth took a deep breath, trying to focus only on moving air in and out of her lungs. Then, she had a great idea for how to enhance the properties of her healing potions. She’d always been fairly good with herbs and had been working with Adan on improving some of their potion recipes.

“Solas, how do you turn your thoughts off? Mine are too loud,” Seth flopped forward, and held her chin with her hands, resting her elbows on her crossed knees. “And really, ‘See the light that is my breath’, what does that even mean?” she almost spat the words out, she was frustrated with what seemed like a pointless exercise.

Solas sighed and opened his eyes to look at Sethariel. He didn’t know how she could have so much trouble meditating. Whenever they tried, she turned into a frustrated, petulant child. Then he had a thought, she was a highly focused individual but she was goal oriented and like to be always doing something.

“Perhaps… Perhaps, we can try something else,” Solas stood up, indicating Sethariel to do the same, “I think perhaps a kinesthetic meditation would be more beneficial.”

Seth stood straight up, “You can do that?” 

She had never heard of such a thing, but the idea was appealing. Her green eyes were bright and her expression one of interest.

The other elf nodded, “It is unconventional, and it hasn’t been practiced in some time but I believe it will work for you.”

“As long as I’m not supposed to do anymore of this watching the light that is my breath nonsense, I’m game,” she said flatly.

He smiled, amused at her lack of enthusiasm, then walked her through a basic form. She felt awkward at first, and stumbled a little, the movements were deliberate but graceful. She’d never been graceful but Solas was a patient teacher and she was able to learn the form in short order.

“Good, that’s fine. It will become easier as you practice. Now when you go through the form on our own, focus on the movements. Visualize them, in as much detail as you can. Try to flow between each one smoothly. Keep your breathing slow and deliberate, just like your movements.”

“Does it matter if I close my eyes?”

“No, you can keep them open or shut them if you wish. Are you ready?”

She nodded, with a small huffy breath trying to relax.

“Now let’s begin.”

Solas watched Sethariel move through the form. She had closed her eyes to concentrate. He could see it was working, her magic pulsed brightly as her connection to her mana pool increased as she went deeper into the meditation. When she finished, Solas helped her with some of the movements she had trouble with.

“It will become easier with practice, but you did very well. There are also more advanced forms that will help you focus your magic. Eventually, it will even help you learn new spells,” he was quite pleased how well the exercise had worked.

“Solas, you said this hadn’t been practiced for some time. Did you learn this in the Fade?” Sethariel asked. 

She was curious, she was always curious. She loved to ask questions, they seemed to fuel her and keep her going.

“I have seen this practiced in the Fade. It was practiced by particular sect of the ancient elvhen battle mages,” he replied. “Now I have a question for you, if I may, do you feel this is similar to what you do in battle? You are always very focused then.”

“Not really. In battle, everything is always shifting and crazy it makes it easier.”

“Really? Think for a moment, is it that simple?” Solas, was in full teacher mode now, asking Seth questions to make her think more. “What exactly do you do when in battle?”

“Well, no…” she said, slowly. Think about her answer carefully. “I… I try to figure out who we’re fighting and prioritize my attacks from there. Then I have to monitor the situation and shift my tactics accordingly.” She stopped speaking for a moment, lost in thought, “I think I see. I’m more focused so I have have better access to my mana which is why my magic seems stronger when fighting.” She made a small derisive sound, “So it does help that I concentrate on not tripping over my own feet.”

“Astoundingly thoughtful insight followed by defensive, self-depreciating humor. You fall into your established pattern, da’len.”

“Helpful input followed by smug pomposity. I’m not the only one with a pattern, oh self-proclaimed decrepit one,” Seth said unamused, raising an eyebrow and crossed her arms. 

Solas acted like he was ancient, always calling her child. It was starting to grate on her nerves. He was only about thirty-five, maybe forty, and Sethariel was certain he shaved his head to make himself look older.

To her surprise and annoyance, he laughed at her, “Yes, well. Maybe we both have room for improvement.” 

He gave a little bow to Seth and headed back to his cabin.

****

Josephine had canceled their usual morning meeting because of urgent business with a visiting noble, so Sethariel decided to take advantage of the down time. First, she went to the blacksmith and had some new armor and weapons made. She had already replaced the broken staff she had been carrying with one they had found on a dead mage in the Hinterlands. It had a fairly heavy top, so it was good for bashing things with and Sethariel had lashed a small knife to the end of the haft so she could stab things too. 

Her magic wasn’t that great, but she made up for it with sheer effort. Most mages stood at the back of a battle and acted like a ranged fighter. Not Sethariel, she got right up into the fight. “ _Any battle you refuse to get your own hands dirty in isn’t worth fighting._ ”

The staff was a makeshift weapon, but dangerous. Unfortunately, it was far too large and heavy for her to continue using. She talked with the blacksmith, Harrit, he showed her some plans and they decided on a much better staff. He modified it slightly so it was shorter than a normal staff, to accommodate her small stature, and had a knife blade built in so she could use it like a pike. Solas was also able to provide some focusing stones he had found that would help enhance her energy magic. She also commissioned some light leather armor. Sethariel refused to wear mage robes, they were impractical and hindered movement.

She also found someone to make her leather gloves that fit better than the pair Cassandra had lent her. She had taken to wearing a glove on her left hand at all times, except when closing rifts. The mark always glowed faintly, which was disturbing enough, but the skin around it was also easily irritated. The glove protected it a little and made it easier to not think about the mark.

After a short chat with Blackwall to make sure he was settled in, she headed over to the practice area. Cassandra was training with her sword and a practice dummy. She gave it one mighty blow, and the dummy shattered. Cassandra snorted in consternation.

“They should get you better dummies.” Sethariel quipped flatly.

Cassandra sighed, “Did I do the right thing? What I have set in motion here could destroy everything I have revered my whole life.” 

The woman sheathed her sword and walked with Sethariel to the edge of the practice field, by the frozen lake. 

They stood in silence for a moment before Cassandra continued, “One day they may write about me as a fool, a traitor to my Order, a madwoman. They may be right. I’ve always been told I was rash, my teachers said it would lead me to trouble.”

Sethariel didn’t know what to say. So many people had been looking to her for guidance since she had halted the growth of the breach, they seemed to think she somehow had all the answers now. It was Sethariel’s turn to sigh.

“You did what you thought needed to be done. Someone has to make the decision to do something, whether it is right or wrong, only time will tell. I respect you for that.”

The Seeker stared at her for a moment, “Even after what I did to you?”

Sethariel shrugged, “It’s not like you didn’t have reason to suspect me. Besides, you’ve tried to make up for it since.”

Cassandra was still troubled, “What I’ve done though…” Her voice trailed off, she shook her head.

“Inaction is still a choice. In our case, it probably would have been a choice for death, maybe for the whole world. The Chantry is blaming the Inquisition because it’s easier than admitting they couldn’t pull it together since they were too busy throwing a temper fit,” Sethariel crossed her arms, her face and voice expressing her annoyance.

Cassandra smiled a little at the thought of Chancellor Roderick throwing himself down, kicking and screaming like a toddler. Cassandra then asked, “Do you believe you are the Herald of Andraste?”

Sethariel took a deep, audible breath and let it out slowly. She had known Cassandra was going to ask her this, she had just been waiting for the other woman to bring it up.

“Cassandra, to be honest, no. I certainly don’t believe I’m holy. And, well, I’m Dalish, remember? I was raised in our ways, not yours.”

Cassandra’s disapproval was obvious, “The Dalish worship many gods, do they not? Surely you could make room for the Maker.”

Sethariel mimicked the disgusted noise the other woman usually made, Cassandra eyebrows shot up in surprise. 

“Fenedhis! Cassandra, you and I both know it doesn’t work like that. Most religions frown upon treating them like a buffet table, picking and choosing the bits you like and ignoring the rest,” Sethariel really hoped that she’d told that analogy correctly. “I may not worship the same as you or hold the same beliefs but I do respect your beliefs and want to help you.”

Cassandra looked thoughtful, then nodded, “You have been honest with us from the beginning, I respect that about you. I know you don’t believe it, but you were sent to us when we needed you most. Maybe that is alright. I still believe, Herald.”

“You know,” Sethariel droned in her best boring lecture voice, a sardonic smile twisting her mouth, “I read a very interesting treatise theorizing that the elven gods, dwarven Stone, and human Maker are just different aspects of a single god as interpreted by disparate cultures. I think you’d enjoy it, it was a very in depth comparison. It even had graphs.” 

She knew that would lighten the Seeker’s mood a little. Cassandra snorted again, laughing a little this time and went back to her sword practice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Infomercial Disclaimer Time!  
> Sethariel has read everything her clan could get their hands on. She was basically being trained as a liaison with the outside world, someone non-Dalish would be comfortable dealing with, so she has some funny ideas as a result. Her personal beliefs are not reflective of Clan Lavellan or the Dalish as a whole.
> 
> ****  
> Solas was totally having a Jedi Master moment in this chapter.
> 
> ****  
> This is my first fanfic ever, **_constructive_** criticism is appreciated.


	8. Belief in Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas has questions about Sethariel's beliefs. Sethariel debates the wisdom of becoming emotionally attached to the people she is working with. Varric tells a story about Hawke.

“Herald, do you have a moment?” Solas asked.

Sethariel was sitting at a small table in the corner of the tavern, having some dinner while reading. She motioned him to sit. Her mouth, of course, was full of hot stew.

“I heard about your conversation with Seeker Cassandra earlier,” he continued.

Sethariel finished chewing, “Yes?” 

She knew he didn’t approve of the Dalish or the Chantry, so she had a guess where this conversation was going to go.

“You do not believe you were chosen as Herald of Andraste?”

“No.”

“Do you believe in the elven gods?” 

She had been right about what he was going to ask.

Sethariel sighed, “Not as such, no.”

Solas look was one of shock, “But among the Dalish…”

“Yes,”  she snapped, a little waspishly, “the Dalish worship the old, elvhen gods. That doesn’t mean every Dalish believes, it doesn’t mean I have to believe.”

“This is rather surprising. You even wear the vallaslin, they are a dedication a god, are they not?” he raised his eyebrows, it seemed to Sethariel like a challenge.

“They are, but they are also a tradition among my people. They are a mark of adulthood and a part of my people’s heritage.”

“I see,” Solas said, watching her.

“I was raised by my Keeper you know. She believes in the Creators, as does most my clan. She even suggested Ghilan’nain for my dedication since I was a like an ungainly, little halla. Deshanna thought the halla mother seemed appropriate,” Sethariel smiled, a calculated move to disarm the other elf. 

She knew he’d expected a fight over Dalish beliefs. He had made it plain he had no respect for the Dalish and had poked at her, trying to instigate a debate. She wasn’t interested.

Solas frowned. Sethariel wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but it seemed unpleasant. She thought he was going to say something but he didn’t. 

They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a moment, before Solas asked, “Do you believe the elvhen gods exist?”

“I think so, there seems to be quite a bit of evidence that something or someone at least existed. But I do not believe in they were gods,” her eyes narrowed, and the corner of her mouth curled up slightly, “Would gods, real gods, be so easily tricked and be locked away from the world forever? I mean, in the stories Fen’Harel sound like an awfully shifty character, why would anyone trust him? I wouldn’t.” 

Sethariel had grown up hearing the story of how Fen’Harel had betrayed the old gods and  their enemies, the Forgotten Ones, and had locked both groups away forever. They had known he had played both sides but both sides had trusted him, and never questioned his motives

Solas gave a surprising bitter laugh, “No, I suppose not. What of the Maker? What is your opinion on him? I’ve seen you listening to the singing of the Chant a few times.”

Sethariel had a feeling there was some joke she was missing, but answered the question anyway, “The Chant is... interesting. I’ve never heard anything like it before. The music, I mean. I do like the part about blessing the peacekeepers and such, but it just doesn’t make sense to me. This Maker is basically an all-loving parent and creator of everything but is so petty as to turn from his children and abandon them the moment they make a single mistake. If he did, it sounds more like a, what did Varric call it? Oh, yes, a deadbeat father,” her voice dripped with sarcasm. 

She couldn’t understand why so many humans believed in the Chant, it seemed pretty ridiculous. They claimed the Maker had abandoned the world but then, in the next breath, claimed miracles and divine intervention had done things for them or gave them special privileges. It didn’t make any sense.

Solas smiled and leaned forward a little, “I wouldn’t say that too loudly around the Seeker.” He paused, “Or the Spymaster, or any of the Chantry sisters. Actually, I would keep that to yourself altogether. The Herald of Andraste flat out denying the basic tenants of the Chant and calling the Maker a deadbeat father? Horrible,” he chuckled.

Sethariel let out a sharp, derisive laugh, “Don’t worry. I’m used to keeping my opinions to myself.”

Solas smiled a little wider, “So, have you always been a rebel?”

“Something like that. You’re not exactly a conformist yourself,” she replied, raising an eyebrow.

Solas shifted uncomfortably in his seat, it was a small movement and almost imperceptible. He changed the subject.

“So what do you believe?” he made a small but sweeping gesture with his hand.

Sethariel thought for a moment, “I believe in lots of things. For example, asking questions. Lots and lots of questions.”

“That is not a very Dalish sounding belief. It is also not an answer.”

“No, not a very Dalish,” Sethariel agreed, “And there are worse things than not getting an answer to your questions.”

Solas gave her a funny look, then rose, “I’ll let you get back to your food and your reading.”

Sethariel watched the other elf leave.

“ _He’s so odd,_ ” she shrugged. 

Solas was hiding a lot of things but it wasn’t like he was going to tell her. Besides, she honestly didn’t care that much. Or rather, didn’t want to care. As soon as the Breach was closed, she was going home and would probably never see or hear from these people again. So, there was no point in becoming emotionally invested. 

_“Right?”_

Besides, the potential end of the world seemed a little more important than one weird pseudo-hedge mage’s eccentricities. Solas wasn’t exactly honest with her anyway. He knew way too much about obscure magics to be the simple apostate he was pretending to be, but he was surrounded by templars so the guise made sense. Seth needed his expertise to help seal the Breach so now was not the time to call him out. Also, since there wasn’t much she could do about the end of the world right so she went back to her stew and her book.

“That was an odd conversation,” Varric said from behind her.

Sethariel sighed, “Am I ever going to get to finish my dinner?”  

She closed her book again and put it away in the small bag slung over her chair.

“Sure, you can finish. I’m all for hearing myself talk,” Varric said with a smile, leaning on the seat Solas had just vacated, “Besides, I’m going to eat too.” 

He went and got a bowl of the stew and returned to sit with Sethariel.

“So,” he said after a while, “I have to admit you’re the oddest Dalish I’ve ever met, but Chuckles is still way more strange than you.”

Sethariel laughed, this time her breathy laugh of good humor, “Thanks, at least I win in one category.”

“Yeah well, he is something of an oddball.”

“An enigma,” she agreed.

“You really did read a dictionary didn’t you?” Varric asked.

“I did.” she grinned shyly.

“It’s hard for you, the Herald of Andraste stuff?”

“It is. I don’t like people calling me that. It’s… It’s not… I just…” she sighed, she normally didn’t have so much trouble forming complete sentences. “It’s absolute rubbish but they believe it,” she said in a low tone, her voice a mix of awe and disgust. 

It was hard for her to accept this title. So much responsibility had been placed upon her shoulders, she felt like she was constantly struggling not to get crushed by it all.

“Hawke hated the mantle of Champion,” Varric said soothingly, patting Sethariel’s hand, “All those people looking up to her, and depending on her. It was hard. She always said she was just an unlucky idiot who was only really good at three things: getting into trouble, stabbing things, and setting shit on fire.”

“Sounds like we have something in common.”

“You do. I’ve seen you stab stuff. And you have me, that makes at least two things.”

“Thanks Varric. You don’t know how much I appreciate that.” Sethariel gave him a warm smile, her tone not sarcastic for a moment, “Now, I have a question for you.”

“Shoot,” he grinned, she did love to ask questions. It seemed to be one of the few joys in her life.

“About that battle with the Arishok, that has to be made up.” 

The moment was over.

****

Varric had given the most colorful description of Hawke’s fight with the Arishok.

“Hawke kept running around like a mad woman and Broody was shouting at her ‘ _Stand your ground, woman!_ ’ and she screamed back ‘ _I’d prefer to live, but if you keep yelling at me, you bloody won’t!_ ’. It was the most undignified duel I’ve ever seen, but she won,” he finished.

Blackwall and Cassandra had come in early on in the story and had stayed to listen. But, the Seeker had stayed behind Varric where he couldn’t see her. She was smiling and trying not to laugh.

“That wasn’t how you told it the first time, Varric,” Cassandra said in her most serious voice

Varric jumped and Sethriel and Blackwall were both rolling with laughter, which was an unusual sight. 

“Andraste’s ass, Seeker! Don’t do that to me.”

Cassandra had moved around the table so Varric could see her. Her arms were crossed but she was grinning wickedly.

“Care to explain the discrepancies in your story Varric?” she asked.

“I had to preserve the dignity of my friend, Seeker. Besides, you wouldn’t have believed that.”

“True, I would not have believed that story. I’m still not sure I do. ‘ _Stand your ground, woman_ ’?” she snorted, “I would have done more than yell at him.”

“Yes you would Seeker, yes you would.”

Sethariel smiled, she was starting to genuinely like these people. Maybe she needed to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of the Arishok battle was inspired by this:  
> [Legendary Duel by aimo](http://aimo.deviantart.com/art/DA2-Legendary-Duel-202143065)
> 
> **  
> This is my first fanfic ever, **_constructive_** criticism is appreciated.


	9. A Hive of Scum and Villainy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're going to Val Royeaux!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, this is a super long chapter. Sorry!

“There is no point in debating any more, I’m going to have to go to Val Royeaux," Sethariel said quietly, pinching the bridge of her nose.

The advisors and Cassandra looked up at her. She had been quiet most of the meeting, asking a few questions but mostly listening and absorbing everything the others had said. They had been arguing if it was a good idea for Sethariel to go to Val Royeaux to address the Chantry. Cassandra and Josephine had supported the idea saying that Mother Giselle was right that Sethariel may be able to divide the Revered Mothers and perhaps win the Inquisition some friends. Leliana and Cullen were against the plan.

“It may just cause more problems though,” Sethariel added, “I’m not exactly the Chantry’s favorite elf.”

“I agree. It will cause problems and it is not safe. Besides, it just legitimizes the idea that we should listen to what the Chantry says,” Cullen said.

“But we also can’t sit around and do nothing,” Sethariel said firmly to the Commander, “I’m going to Val Royeaux.”

Cullen looked annoyed.

“I will go with her,” Cassandra said. “Leliana, get the names of the mothers who might be persuaded to support us from Mother Giselle. We will make full use of them.”

“There is one more thing, Herald,” Josephine said. She pulled a letter out and handed it to Sethariel, “We have been contacted by your clan. They seem to think you are being held here against you will and are requesting your return. I can send someone to speak with them”

Sethariel read the letter quickly, the Keeper was firm in her request but not threatening.

“I think we would be better off sending a few of my agents with a letter and some small, useful gift,” Leliana said.

“My soldiers could deliver a message, make it clear we are serious,” Cullen added while looking closely at the map on the table.

Sethariel dropped the letter. She stared at the ex-templar for a moment. She was tired, the last few weeks had been stressful to say the least, and the meeting this morning had been trying. Her temper finally snapped at the unsuspecting commander.

“Did you even think at all before you speak?” she growled. 

Cullen’s head snapped up, confused. Sethariel stomped around the table, getting so close the finger she was jabbing up toward his face almost poked his armor, “Do you know what you’re suggesting? You’d get my clan and your men killed you bloody idiot!” By the end she was shouting at him.

The man looked like Sethariel had hit him. She took a step back, dropping her hands to her sides her rage dissipating as quickly as it had flared. Sethariel was shaking slightly, she felt drained. She sorry for the outburst, it had been completely unexpected and unprofessional. Josephine stooped to pick up her quill, she had dropped it when the shouting had started. Leliana stood quietly, studying the elven woman. Cassandra came over and put a hand on Sethariel’s shoulder, giving it small squeeze.

“I am so sorry, Herald,” the commander said softly, “I-”

Sethariel cut his off apology. She pulled the too large glove she now wore on her left hand on tighter before tucking it under her right arm, “No, Commander. You don’t need to apologize. I know you weren’t suggesting an attack on my clan. I – I think we need to end this meeting. Leliana, if you would please send two of your agents with a small gift to my clan I would appreciate it greatly. I’ll write a note they can deliver as well.” 

She wasn’t shaking anymore, but her shoulders were rolled forward making her look tired and wilted.

Everyone began to file out. 

“Commander,” Sethariel said softly, and moved to stop him before he exited the meeting room.

“I am sorry,” Cullen said looking down at her, his distress plain on his face.

“I know,” she sighed. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, I’m not angry with you. I’ve just… Well, there is no excuse really. I lost my temper and I shouldn’t have. You had no idea what a bad idea that was or what it sounded like you were suggesting. But there was no harm done, I know you were trying to be helpful,” she forced a small smile as she looked up at the commander.

“You’ve been through a lot, I cannot begin to imagine the strain you’ve been under. I really am the one at fault, Herald,” Cullen said. 

She had never smiled at him before and after her outburst it felt strange. The Herald looked so small and sad as she looked up at him. He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were the same green as the fade rifts. Cullen tried to apologize again but she cut him off. He had something of the look of a bedraggled kitten.

“Let’s forget it. And, please call me by my name. I can’t stand to be called Herald all the time.”

Cullen nodded slowly, “I will try, Lady Lavellan.”

To his surprise she rolled her eyes and some of the sadness in them was replaced by what seemed to be amusement. 

“ _Lady Lavellan? What a ridiculous title, the Dalish didn’t have nobles._ ” 

“At least it’s a start,” she said sarcastically, under her breath and headed out into the village.

“Maker’s breath, ” he thought, completely confused, as he watched her walk away.

****

Val Royeaux was a bloody mess. The Lord Seeker Lucius had apparently lost what little mind he may have once had and abandoned the city. The Chantry mothers were too busy arguing to do anything against the Inquisition, so that was a small bright spot. They had also received a rather unexpected invitation to Redcliffe from the leader of the rebel mages, Fiona. Fiona had delivered it in person. She was a bit confrontational, but she was scared and sincerely hoped the Inquisition would ally with her group and protect them.

Sethariel was leading the way to the city gates to head back to Haven when an arrow hit the ground at her feet. She sighed, reaching down to grab the note that was attached, “ What nonsense do we have to deal with now? ” 

Cassandra read the note over Seth’s shoulder.

“What does that even mean? Was this note written by a child?” she pointed to the crude drawings in the margins.

“Varric, know what a ‘Friend of Red Jenny’ is?” Seth asked as she handed him the note.

“I don’t know much, they’re a gang of sorts, mostly bother nobles. I don’t know what they want with you, Seth.”

Seth smiled inwardly at the sound of her nickname. She had repeatedly threatened, cajoled, and finally begged her companions on the trip to Val Royeaux until they consented to call her something other than Herald, at least in private. Varric has designated Seth as the name of choice, since he thought Sethariel sounded too pretentious. Solas, the spoilsport, was the only holdout but even he had relented eventually and agreed to call her Sethariel.

“We should check it out,” Sethariel said.

Varric was making arrangements for them to stay at an Inn overnight when a messenger approached Cassandra.

“My Lady Herald?” he asked. She crossed her arms, shaking her head, and motioned to Seth.

“My apologies, my Lady,” the young man said with a squeak. 

He bowed low and handed Seth an ornate envelope. She opened it, wondering what it could be. The card inside was thick, off white paper embossed with gold. It read:

  

_The Herald of Andraste, and a guest, are cordially invited to the salon of_

_Madame Vivienne_

_First Enchanter and Royal Advisor to the court of Orlais_

 

“The party is the day after tomorrow, at dusk. You will attend?” The messenger asked.

Seth looked at the invitation again, then nodded. The First Enchanter could be a good ally, she was the leader of the remaining Circle mages. Even if she wasn’t interested in helping them it would at least be a good opportunity to get a better sense of the political situation in the court of Orlais. Josephine would be so proud. The young man bowed again and left.

Cassandra snorted. “I don’t envy you going,” she said shaking her head as she read the invitation Seth had handed her.

“Of course not, you’re coming with me,” Seth said plucking the invitation from the taller woman’s hand.

“What?” she almost shouted, “Varric… Varric would be a much better choice.”

“He’d be fine, he’s good with everyone, but you grew up with nobility. Besides, I’d feel better having you with me,” Seth grinned, looking like the cat who’d eaten the canary. 

Josephine had informed her that Cassandra’s family was related to Nevarran royalty. Cassandra snorted in disgust.

“Solas could go.”

“Cassandra.”

“Well, I’m not wearing some fancy dress,” Cassandra said after a moment and Seth knew she had won.

“I won’t either, we don’t have any anyway.”

****

“ _This city is so messed up!_  ” Sethariel thought later that night as she stabbed the man, with no pants, who was attaching her. 

The spastic, blonde elf they had met was still cackling “No breeches!” as she shot the last guard.

Seth took a quick look at her companions, they were annoyed but unharmed.

“Who are you and what is it you want?” she asked grumpily, turning on the elf.

The girl explained, somewhat confusedly, that she was Sera and was one of the Jennies of the Friends of Red Jenny. They wanted to help the Inquisition because they had been helping people and restoring order. It took Seth a few minutes to process this information, Sera’s speech pattern was strange and she mispronounced almost everything. Words ran into each other and morphed together like the girl was a walking, talking alphabet soup. Seth tried to question her a bit. She succeeded in discovering the Friends were a group of commoners who would punish nobles, mostly by pranks or petty theft, who had abused their power.

“And you really want to join us?” she asked, narrowing her eye giving the girl a suspicious look. 

The Friends might claim to protect people but they didn’t sound like a particularly altruistic group. They did, however, sound like they might be a good source of information.

“Said that, dinnit I, yeah?” Sera said, an edge of annoyance in her voice after all the questions.

“Fenedhis,” Seth muttered. “Fine, whatever. At this point, we can use all the help we can get.” 

Her companions were obviously not happy, but she didn’t care. The Friends could be useful and she wanted to get some sleep.

“Great! Get in before you get too big,” she giggled, as she skipped off. “Don’t seem too elfy either, yeah. Meet ya’ when you leave back to your Haveny place.” 

Apparently being ‘elfy’ was a great sin. Seth sighed, and the group headed back to the inn.

****

Varric knocked on Seth and Cassandra’s door.

“Are you two ready?” he called. “Your party starts soon.”

He heard Cassandra snort as she opened the door.

“We’re ready,” the seeker said as she stalked out of the room and down the stairs.

“I shouldn’t be enjoying torturing my friend, but I am.” Seth said snickering.

“Friend, huh?” Varric said. 

He was a little surprised how close the two women had become, they had gone from captor and prisoner to friends in such a short time and Cassandra wasn’t the friendliest of people. But, they had spent a lot of time in danger, sometimes it seemed like they spend all their time fighting. Their small, makeshift group had had to rely on each other in battle from the first moment they had met, it had made a bond between them. Besides both women were more or less no nonsense types, despite Seth’s constant sarcasm.

Seth nodded. “I consider you a friend too,” she said seriously.

Varric couldn’t help but smile. Sometimes she reminded him so much of Hawke, even though they were quite different. Neither of them wanted to be the one everyone looked to for help, but people did anyway. Both women always ended up taking on every hopeless cause and sadsack that came their way.

“You look pretty, Seth,” Varric said, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

She had parted her short, white hair deep on one side and had slicked it down somewhat. She was wearing her heavy, dark green leather coat over a white tunic and tight, black trousers and boots, and her trademark single glove. It was a practical, probably too practical for Orlais, but it suited her. Seth had also bought some new earrings; tiny, sparkling jeweled studs. She had two in each lobe and another two just below the missing part of her left ear. Varric had never seen another Dalish with pierced ears. It was just another of her un-Dalish oddities.

“And practical,” she said with a small smile, moving her collar a little so Varric could see the light chainmail hidden underneath. “You should get a good look at Cassandra.”

The two went downstairs, where Solas and Cassandra were waiting. Solas smiled at Seth, but didn’t say anything.

“Andraste’s knickers, Seeker! You do clean up well,” Varric said smiling.

She was wearing an outfit similar to Sethariel’s, but her jacket was only hip length. Both jacket and pants were in a deep, royal blue. She also wore a shining breastplate emblazoned with the emblem of the Inquisition. It fitted her perfectly making her look elegant and deadly. Her sword and shield were strapped to her back.

Cassandra rolled her eyes at the compliment, but from where Seth was standing she could have sworn she saw a slight flush, “Let’s just get this over with.”

****

Seth was astonished at the overblown luxury of the party. The First Enchanter’s salon was really a mansion. There were Orlesian nobles in masks everywhere, all drinking out of sparkling crystal glasses. They twittered and whispered as Seth and Cassandra entered. A few even pointed. Neither woman wore a mask and the other female guests wearing large hoop skirted, ball gowns in assorted garish colors. Seth ignored them, she was too busy thinking how about how much money must have been wasted on this silly affair. She wanted to get in, get their business done, and get out.

“Excuse me, but you are ze one called ze Herald aren’t you?” a woman asked, her speech slightly slurred, making her Orlesian accent heavier.

“Yes.” Sethariel replied flatly.  

“Oh, it iz sooo exciting! I’ve heard many stor-reez. Are zey true?” she asked, eyes wide behind her mask.

Seth had no idea what stories the woman had heard. She was tempted to say yes, but decided to go with a more diplomatic answer.

“I cannot say for certain madam, but storytellers do tend to exaggerate.”

“Oh, zat iz too bad,” she frowned, swaying a little. The party seemed to be well underway, this woman was already quite drunk.

“Are you here for Madame de Fer or Duke Gaspard?” her male companion asked, trying steady the lady. This was difficult as he wasn’t exactly sober himself.

“I was invited by First Enchanter Vivienne.” Seth replied, a little confused. She had no idea who Madame de Fer was, though she knew of Duke Gaspard. He had expected to become emperor when the previous monarch had died but he had been passed over in favor of his cousin, Empress Celine. So, he had started a civil war in Orlais and was currently trying to seize the throne.

“Oh, Madame de Fer is the First Enchanter’s nickname at court.” The man explained. “I thought she would have invited you, we have all been curious about the Inquisition.”  

“The Inquisition! What a load of pig shit!” said a man loudly. “Crazed seekers and washed up sisters? Ha!”

“Our goal is to close the Breach and restore order.” Cassandra said through clenched teeth.

The man swayed as he hurled abuse at them.

“Restore order, with an army? Outsiders looking to grab power. With your puppet, the wild rabbit set up as a herald of Andraste.” He pointed at Seth.

Cassandra made a move like she was going to draw her sword but Seth grabbed her arm.

“He’s drunk,” she hissed. Cassandra relaxed a little but wasn’t pleased.

“If you were a woman of honor,” the man continued moving toward Set unsteadily, “you would come outside a fight me!”

Suddenly the man froze, literally. Ice twined up his legs, over his torso, and over his neck and arms, leaving only his head free. His eyes widened in panic.

“Oh my. Speaking like that to my guests in my home? What manners,” said a woman walking down the stairs.  

She was tall and elegant. She was wearing a fitted white gown with black trim and a hat with curved horns. Her mask was made of silver and it made her dark skin seem to glow.

“Lady Vivienne!” the man squeaked.

“You, darling, are the wounded party. What should I do with him?” Vivienne said, looking at Sethariel.

“I think he’s learned his lesson, madame,” Seth said with a small bow, “Let him go.”

Vivienne smiled and snapped her fingers in an unnecessary gesture of power as she let the spell go. The ice melted and the now soaked man ran out of the house as fast as he could.

“He has embarrassed himself, and will not be received for at least the rest of the season. That’s a good punishment. Very wise, Herald,” she gestured for Seth to follow as she swept off to a nearby balcony.

“I have been watching the Inquisition with some interest,” Vivienne said. “I think you are the only hope Thedas has, I would like to join you and give you my assistance.”

“Just like that?” Seth asked, she had expected the lady to dance around the subject.

“Yes, my dear. I know you do not play The Game, though you will have to learn. This one time, however, I have decided being direct would be prudent.”

Seth agreed. She had some questions for Vivienne, about her job her thoughts on the Mage-Templar conflict. Not that it really mattered that much. The First Enchanter, leader of the remaining Circle mages, and adviser to the Queen of Orlais was offering her assistance. Of course Seth was going to take it.

“The Inquisition would be pleased to have your help, Lady Vivienne,” Seth said, bowing slightly again, trying to sound respectful.

“Very good! I shall meet you in Haven. Now, I must attend to my guests.” Vivienne left.

Seth and Cassandra stayed for a few more minutes, which was just enough time to eat some chocolate pastries Cassandra had procured for them. Then they left, neither had any desire to stay a moment longer. Lady Vivienne had provided them with a carriage for the night, so it was a short trip back to the inn. They found Solas and Varric waiting for them in the main room of their suite.

“The First Enchanter has joined the Inquisition,” Seth said, flopping down on an unoccupied couch.

“Really?” Solas said, brows raised.

“Yes,” replied Cassandra testily, “And the nobles here are disgusting.”

Seth explained what had happened with the other guest and how Vivienne had stepped in. “I thought Cassandra was going to gut him,” she finished.

“I should have,” she hissed.

“I’m so proud Seeker, you’re learning to control your temper,” Varric said. 

Seth shot him a look telling him not to push it, she and Cassandra had already been through enough. 

Varric let it drop, “The First Enchanter and the Friends in a matter of days. You’re getting good at this recruiting thing.”

“I was in charge of most of our clan’s dealings with outsiders before I became First. Though my tenure as official liaison of Clan Lavellan was short lived, I still know how to get things done. Mostly,” she gave a small shrug.

The group then discussed their plans to return to Haven, deciding to leave first thing in the morning and went to bed.

“Thanks for going with me Cassandra,” Seth said as they prepared for bed, “That was awful.”

“You are welcome. I did imprison you and falsely accuse you of murder, dragging me to a party is the least you could do for revenge.”

Seth chuckled under her breath and blew out the candle, “Good night, Cassandra.”

****

Sethariel woke up quite early the next morning. Varric was sitting at a table writing some letters and drinking tea so she decided to join him. She had a book on Orlesian politics she had borrowed from Josephine she wanted to read. They sat in silence for some time, both working on their own tasks. Seth was taking some note when Varric reached over and shut her book.

“I think we’ve both done enough work for a while.” he said when she looked up, then nodded.

He picked up her book looking at the title, “ _‘ Modern Politics of Orlais: An Overview of the Game in the Age of the Dragon ’_ , just a little light reading then?”

“What are you doing?” she asked, ignoring his jab.

“Business letters, I’m a member of the Dwarven Merchant Guild. Lots of people owe me money, I have to keep reminding them that. Also, my publisher always needs to be reminded that books just don’t grow on trees. I’m an artist I have to suffer for my work. Suffering can’t always be fit into neat little deadlines,” he answered with a smirk.

“I’d hate to be your publisher,” Seth replied, shaking her head, “I do have a question though, if that’s alright.”

Varric nodded, taking a sip of his tea. The last time Sethariel had questions for him, it had been about red lyrium. He hated talking about it but doubted she would ask about it again.

“Is there something between you and Cassandra?” she asked it in a completely serious tone, not even a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

Varric spat his tea, “What?” he gasped.

Seth gave him a small, but wicked smile, “Never mind, Varric. I better go make sure Cassandra is up. Would you please make sure Solas is ready too?” 

She got up and practically skipped into the room she had shared with the Seeker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seth is getting more comfortable with her new teammates and friends. She kind of likes Cullen, and thinks he's quite cute, but isn't romantically interested. Yet.


	10. Coffee and Sympathy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Backstory, backstory, backstory. And Cullen gets embarrassed.

Haven was abuzz, when the Herald and her companions returned. Word had spread fast that the First Enchanter had joined the Inquisition. Since their alliance, a small but steady stream of nobles had been coming to visit the Inquisition. People were excited, they saw this as a good sign. Madame de Fer had arrived a day and a half after the others and seemed to be settling in nicely, having taken over a small area of the Chantry. Sera on the other hand, whom Varric had nicknamed Buttercup, had installed herself in the tavern. She didn’t like Solas at all, said he was too ‘elfy’, and Sera hated magic.

Strangely enough, Sera had seemed to take a shine to Sethariel despite the fact she was both an elf and a mage. Sera had found the Herald was surprisingly not ‘elfy’ for a Dalish and liked that she didn’t act like a snob. It might also have helped that Seth was a pretty terrible at magic.

Seth on the other hand couldn’t stand the girl. Seth found Sera utterly obnoxious. Her lack of respect and general bad manners made it worse. Seth had told Sera so, but Sera had dismissed it and had followed Seth around, wanting to do things together and suggesting all sorts of outlandish and silly pranks. Seth just wanted to be left alone, so she had started to spend more time with Solas as a way to ward Sera. At least the girl seemed to have finally got the message, and given Seth some peace.

****

Shortly after their return from Val Royeaux, a young man showed up at Haven and approached Sethariel. His name was Krem and he was the representative of someone called The Iron Bull. Seth raised an eyebrow at the name, it seemed pretty ridiculous, but The Iron Bull and his company of mercenaries, Bull’s Chargers, were offering her their services. Krem was very specific that it was her, not the Inquisition, they would work for.

“If you are interested, your Ladyship, we will be on the Storm Coast for the next two weeks or so. There are some Tevinter, uh, forces we need to deal with,” Krem told her with a grin. 

He had a funny accent, slightly clipped but also drawling in places. There was something about Krem that made her like him instantly, which was rare for Seth. She agreed to meet with the Chargers, he seemed pleased and left after giving her a map with their meeting place marked.

Seth knew they wouldn’t be able to leave for at least a day, there was too much work that needed to be done here first. She had just seen Josephine, who was giving her a crash course in courtly manners. She decided to continue her round of the camp and check on everyone before informing them of her intentions. She went to see Leliana, but she was busy so she went to see Solas. She and the other elf had struck up a tentative friendship, after their return from the Hinderlands. Seth was impressed by his knowledge of the fade. She loved to learn and Solas enjoyed sharing his research with such a receptive audience.

They talked about the fade for a while, and Seth was turning to leave when Solas suddenly said, “I have noticed you always wear boots.”

Seth turned back, glancing at his bare feet. “Well, yes. I do,” she said.

Solas continued, “I noticed you were wearing boots when you were retrieved from the breach.”

“Yes, I’ve worn boots before. My clan lived mostly in the mountains. Even Dalish can get frostbite if it gets cold enough,” it was a weak excuse, and she knew it.

Solas just watched her silently for what seemed an indeterminable amount of time.

“You want the story, don’t you?” 

The other elf nodded.

Seth sighed, looking off to one side, her arms folded across her chest. These people were going to drag every embarrassing story out of her sooner or later. 

“On time when I was a kid, I accidently tripped into a really nasty thorn bush. The thorns were large, one went all the way through my foot. Less than two weeks later I cut the other foot up badly by tripping into a box of arrow heads. After that, my Keeper made me wear boots for my own protection. Happy?” 

The entire story had been delivered in a completely flat, monotone voice but when she looked at Solas in the face, he looked like he was going to burst with silent laughter. 

“Oh, such accidents you have had,” he spluttered, “I thought the Dalish were renowned for their grace?”

Seth rolled her eyes, hands on hips, “Ok, so I’m horribly clumsy. Yes, yes. Very funny. You know the clan elders thought I was cursed.” 

Solas stopped laughing, and looked shocked.

She looked at the mark on her hand, it was hurting quite badly. Seth didn’t know why she suddenly felt so angry. She had told Solas the story of the boots and she could feel the pain of the thorn going through her foot. Then other memories had swept over her. They were so vivid it was like it had been happening right then, like she was that small girl again abandoned on the mountain. The sky seemed to go dark and she could feel the sharp wind and see the snow blowing around them as she told the story.

“When I was a small child, a horrible sickness ravaged the northern parts of the Free Marches. My clan lost about half of its people, including both my parents,” she said, “The Keeper adopted me and raised me as her own daughter. As I got older, I got into all sorts of terrible accidents, many more than the other children. I almost died a few times.” Seth stopped for a moment, taking a sharp breath before she continued, “I also had terrible night terrors but never showed any sign of magic. The surviving elders of the clan started to think I was cursed, touched by Fen’harel. They said that I had cheated death and should be cast out lest the clan suffered the consequences. They were already unhappy because our Keeper had set our clan on a new path. We’d lost so many people, it was hard for us to survive on our own and the Keeper feared it would lead to our demise. So, she reached out and strengthened our ties with non-Dalish. We started trading regularly with villages and farmers. She wanted us to grow and adapt, to learn to respect the old ways but embrace change. The elders hated it, they thought we were degrading ourselves and abandoning our heritage. My problems pushed them over the edge. They even tried to abandon me without her permission.” 

She looked at him in the face again, his expression was uncharacteristically soft. 

She narrowed her eyes in anger, as if daring him to feel sorry for her before continuing, “I was a child. But I remember. I thought I was going to die on that stupid mountain. I didn’t know they had left me in secret, hoping Deshanna wouldn’t find me in time, but she did. I cried so much. I’m not sure what happened after that. I remember she took me back to camp and put me bed. Then I heard her yelling for a long time with the elders. No one ever spoke of it, but their hatred was like poison. At least they left me alone, though they tried keeping me apart from the rest of the clan but the joke was on them, I like being alone. The elders still think I’m cursed, the rest of the clan just thinks I’m the most ungraceful Dalish ever.”

Solas wanted to comfort her, but didn’t know what to say. He felt a surge of hot anger at her clan.

“ _These Dalish must be complete savages, worse than I thought. How could they do such a thing to a poor, clumsy little child? Yet, she has grown to be a brave and strong young woman,_ ” he thought.

They stood in silence for a moment, Seth had no idea why she had told Solas that story. But everything had seemed so real and the emotions so raw. It had been both surprising and frightening but now it was gone, the world seemed to have returned to normal. 

Someone behind Seth said, “Oh, sweetie. Need a hug?” 

Seth turn to Varric. He had managed to sneak up on them and had heard the whole story. Seth shook her head, she wasn’t a hugger.

“I’m ok,” she said, giving the dwarf a small smile.

Varric was not convinced, “Sure you are, sweetie. Certain you don’t need a hug?”

The dwarf looked so hurt on her behalf she relented. He gave her a warm hug, and it was surprisingly comforting.

“Your path has been hard, yet you have met the challenge and grown to be strong and disciplined. Your indomitable focus is an enjoyable side benefit.” Solas said.

“Indomitable focus?” Seth asked, looking up at the other elf. 

She had seated herself on the ground next to Varric, who had one arm protectively around her shoulders.

“Presumably. I have yet to see it dominated,” he replied with a smile, clasping his hands behind his back.

Seth chortled at his response. “I’ll try to remember that next time I’m being scared witless and being chased by demons. Maybe I can brandish it at them,” she said, sarcastically.

“Come on, we’re going to the tavern. You need some fun,” Varric smiled giving Seth’s shoulders a squeeze then dragging her off.  “Coming?” he asked Solas.

The elf shook his head watching the other two walked away arm in arm.

“ _Indeed, you do possess indomitable focus. Though, to see it dominated would be…_ ” he thought.

“Fascinating,” he breathed. Then angry at himself, he shook the thought away. He could not think of her in that way.

****

Varric had gathered everyone else in the tavern for some fun. Blackwall and Sera got on famously, singing loud drinking songs. Seth didn’t like to drink alcohol, but had fallen in love with the rich coffee that Solas and Josephine liked with their breakfast. The tavern keeper, Flissa, made her a whole pot special at Varric’s request. Cassandra was indulging in ale, and was bobbing her head back and forth in time to the song and humming softly. Seth didn’t know the songs, but they were amusing. When she saw Josephine and Cullen come in, she beckoned them over.

“We’re having something of a small celebration. Will you join us?”

Josephine couldn’t stay. “I just came to grab a little something between meetings. I would normally would just have a tray brought over, but I needed a walk,” she said apologetically. “The Commander, however, has no such excuse. So, I’ll leave him with you,” she grinned and almost skipped away, grabbing a small tea tray and returning to her office.

Cullen started to object, but Varric stopped him, “Come on Curly, loosen up a little, you work too much. We don’t bite. I think.” 

He gave Seth a pointed look. Seth rolled her eyes.

“I really should go,” Cullen said, turning to go.

“You really should take a break, you do work all the time. At least stay long enough to have a cup of coffee,” Sethariel said. The commander looked exhausted.

“She offered to share her coffee, Curly. That’s huge! She’s mean and doesn’t share. Now you have to stay.”

Seth rolled her eyes again and went to get another mug. When she came back, Cullen was still standing awkwardly.

“Can you sit Commander, or did you forget to oil your armor?” she said, laughing at him a little.

Cullen blushed slightly and sat down in the only open seat which happened to be next to Seth. She passed him a mug of thick, black coffee. The others went back to their singing, and Varric and Cassandra decided to join in the song. The seeker had a pleasant contralto voice, much better than her off key humming had implied. It blended well with Varric’s purring baritone. Seth didn’t know the words to this song either, but was keeping time by drumming her index finger lightly on the mug she was clutching. Cullen stayed silent and watched the group.

“He doesn’t sing so much as talk in rhythm,” Seth observed when the song ended. 

Cullen nodded. 

The others had gone over to the minstrel to make a request for a song but had starting arguing about what it should be, leaving the two alone at the table.

“So,” Seth said to Cullen, “I’ve seen you in meetings and yelling at your recruits to use their shields, but we haven’t had much of a chance to talk. If you don’t mind, I’d like to know a little more about you.” 

She felt bad for him. He still seemed to feel so guilty about his stupid suggestion to contact her clan. Seth wanted to show him she really wasn’t angry. Besides, Varric was right, the man did work too much. He needed a short distraction.

Cullen was a little taken aback, “Well, I was a Templar but I have left the order after the mage rebellion started. I was recruited by Seeker Pentaghast in Kirkwall, where the mage rebellion began. That was bad enough but now we face something far worse and the Chantry has lost control of both the Templars and the mages. Now they argue over a new Divine while the Breach remain. The Inquisition will be able to act where they cannot, we will be able to do so much. We’ll need to...” He trailed off, “I’m sorry, you didn’t invite me to join you to hear a lecture.”

“Well, no. But if you have one prepared I’d love to hear it,” she deadpanned.

He gave her an odd look, and seemed to be about to apologize again.

“That was a joke,” she explained, with a sigh. 

They sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment, sipping their coffee.

“I have to say, I didn’t know one could stop being a Templar,” Seth said.

“What?” Cullen asked, looking down at the Herald. Seth’s speaking voice was quiet, and he couldn’t hear her very well over the noise of her companions’ argument.

Seth shifted so she was facing him and repeated the statement in a louder voice.

“I said, I didn’t know one could stop being a Templar.”

“Oh. Not usually, no. But I felt it was the right thing to do.”

Seth nodded, she had heard what had happened in Kirkwall. She didn’t blame him for leaving.

“When you were in Kirkwall, did you know Varric?”

“I had met him,” Cullen admitted, “He was often with the Champion.”

“Did you know her well?” she asked as she took a sip of her coffee.

“No,” he shook his head. “I met her a few times and I helped her in the end when she…” he paused, “but I didn’t know her well.”

“Are you from Kirkwall?” she asked, sensing he didn’t want to talk about the Hawke.

“No, I’m from Ferelden.”

“Really? I’d never been here before I came for the Conclave and I haven’t seen much. Where are you from?”

“Honnleath. It’s a fairly small place in south-west Ferelden, a few days ride from Redcliffe.” 

Keeping up a conversation with Cullen seemed to be rather difficult since he didn’t offer anything beyond a basic answer, so she asked another question.

“Ferelden is where Mabari are from, right?”

“Yes, they are common in Ferelden and are often used in battle. That’s part of the reason why Fereldens are often called the Dog Lords.”

Again, he didn’t offer any more information so she decided to ask yet another question.

“Were you here during the blight?” she was running out of ideas for questions. 

Seth leaned in a little to hear him better, the fight over the song was getting louder.

“Yes, I was at the Circle when it fell…” he had a pained expression, “I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”

“ _Crap. That was a bad choice,_ ” Sethariel floundered for a different question. 

She knew Leliana didn’t like to talk about the Blight either, and she had actually traveled with the Hero of Ferelden and had been there when the Archdemon was slain. Seth was just curious and trying to be nice, she hadn’t meant to bring up bad memories.

“Of course not. Uh, so, I don’t really know much about Templars. What exactly do they do? Uh, I mean, I know what they do, but…” Seth hesitated, rubbing the flat top of her left ear, “But, does it take a lot of training, to learn to do what Templars do?”

“ _Oh well, that didn’t sound awkward at all! At least it should be safe, he trains a lot,_ ” she thought, “ _Fenedhis, he is a very hard man to have a conversation with._ ”

“Yes, in fact, it takes a great deal of training to become a Templar. I joined as a recruit when I was thirteen. I studied and trained until I was eighteen, then was formally invested into the order and received my first philter of Lyrium. It then took a few more years of intense training before I was given a full time assignment in the circle,” he seemed more at ease now, Cullen was indeed more comfortable talking about training.

“Thirteen? You were very young.”

“I was young, but I wanted to join.”

“Why?” Seth said, a hint of shock in her voice. “Why would anyone want to be a Templar?”

“I was fascinated with them as a child and I would beg the Templars in our village to teach me. Eventually, my parents let me join. I wanted to protect people and I thought I could do that as a Templar. Mages and non-mages alike. I thought that was what Templars did,” he clarified. “When it became clear that the Order wasn’t protecting anyone, I left,” his voice sounded rather bitter at the last part.

“Ah,” Seth still thought it was strange, but didn’t want to offend him. 

She couldn’t help but picture a tiny Commander Cullen running around brandishing a wooden sword at bushes and things. She smiled a little at the thought as she took a sip of her coffee. He was a handsome man, Seth would bet he had been a cute child too. 

She asked yet another question since the commander had once again stopped speaking, “What did you study?”

“Oh, the normal things as well as tactics, the Chant, the history of the Templars, among other things. We also trained with swords, shield, and in self-defense.”

“I am a little confused about one thing. I know the Templars work for the Chantry, but I’m not quite sure how that all works. Are they like the sisters?” Seth asked. 

She was a still vague on how the relationship between the Chantry, Circles, and Templars was supposed to work. No one had explained it to her and even though her clan had many dealings with non-Dalish, they were all with regular people not with the Chantry. She figured the commander would know, as he had been a Templar. She had avoided asking Cassandra since she tended to start ranting whenever the topic was brought up.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, the sisters and brothers in the Chantry dedicate their lives. Do Templars do that?”

Cullen still looked confused.

“I mean do they take vows,” Seth explained. “Like ‘I vow to watch all mages’,” she said in a fake, deep voice which sounded rather like a bad imitation of Cullen. 

He chuckled.

“Or vows of poverty, chastity, and such,” She finished in her normal voice.

“ _Oh, Maker. Is she really asking me this?_ ” Cullen thought rubbing his palm over his eyes before looking down at the little elf. Seth had one eyebrow raised, confused at his response. He looked down at her again and realized it was a perfectly innocent question.

“Uh, sorry. I…” he took a deep breath and cleared his throat, “Ah, no. Templars can, um, marry, but they need permission from the order. Some Templars feel the need to dedicate their lives and do take vows like you, uh, mentioned, though.”

“Oh,” said Seth, “Did you?” 

It made more sense to her now. If the Templars were the military force of Chantry, but were not necessarily not bound by the same faith and vows as those who were supposed to lead them, it would explain how so many had left so easily.

“What? No! Maker’s breath! Can we please talk about something else?” Cullen flushed brightly as he rubbed the back of his neck, “ _Why is the girl questioning me like this?_ ”

Seth looked at him for a moment like he was crazy, then realization spread across her face. Her ears turned rather pink, as she bit her lower lip a little in an effort to suppress a laugh. He was so easily embarrassed, but it was rather charming. She got up from the table and grabbed her pot of coffee in one hand and her mug in the other.

“I’ve probably kept you long enough. I, uh - I should let you get back to work and I had better go break them up before it comes to blows,” she said gesturing slightly with her coffee pot in the direction of her friends. They were still arguing animatedly over what song to sing. “I’ll see you later Commander.” 

She was very pointedly not laughing at him.

He sat watching, still flushed with embarrassment, as she hustled her friends out of the tavern remonstrating them for day drinking and telling them they were going to be leaving for the Storm Coast first thing in the morning.

“Maker’s breath,” he said again softly before draining his coffee and fleeing back to his training area.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't resist the tragic backstory. ;)
> 
> Also, just to be clear, I like Sera. I think she's an interesting character. Sera is however, at this point, too overwhelming for Seth. They'll get on better once she has time to get used to her.


	11. Pretty in Pink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Complete and utter fluff.

The trip to the Storm Coast had to be postponed a few days because of the arrival of some important nobles. Varric was sitting by his fire polishing Bianca when he heard Vivienne and Leliana arguing with the Herald in Leliana’s tent. They were lecturing her on the importance of her appearance, especially when meeting with dignitaries.

“You can’t run around looking like a wild thing, Darling,” Vivienne argued.

“Yes,” agreed Leliana, “your appearance will make a great impact on negotiations. You being Dalish, unfortunately, makes it easier for the nobles dismiss you. You must look the part Herald.”

“Is it really more important what is on my head than inside it?” the Herald asked, sounding annoyed.

“Sadly, yes,” said Leliana.

“The unjust prejudices of the world aside, there is still no excuse not to look your best,” Vivienne interjected.

“Fine,” Sethariel relented, sounding tired, “I’ll wear the fancy clothes and the stupid make-up. Happy?”

“Yes,” The other two women replied in unison.

Varric chuckled, he had chosen this spot to eavesdrop on the Spymaster. His hearing was much better than anyone gave him credit and he often could hear interesting, and sometimes useful, snippets from Leliana’s tent. This, however, was just plain funny.

About three hours later, Sethariel stalked by Varric’s fire scowling. She was wearing a ridiculous pink dress, which looked like it probably belonged to Josephine since it had ruffles, and she was covered in makeup. Her eyes were rimmed with kohl, her lashes darkened to an inky black, and something pearlescent had been applied to her dark, Dalish tattoos. The dark makeup accentuated her large, upturned eyes and made the green seem more intense. What was more startling was the way they had sculpted her face. It looked thinner and her cheekbones seemed much higher and sharper. The overall effect was of an angry, elvhen goddess. If elvhen goddesses were five feet tall and stomped with frilly skirts held up around her knees, that is. About ten minutes later, she came back wearing her normal clothes and with most of the make-up washed off.

“Andraste’s frilly knickers!” Varric said, laughing at her scowl. “That bad?”

“That woman has been here two days and already she and the Spymaster have formed an alliance against me. They don’t even like each other!” the woman said darkly. Her rant continued, “You should have had a good look at that ridiculous dress. The stupid thing didn’t even fit! It was too big and made for someone at least eight inches taller than me. I looked like a child trying to wear their mother’s clothes. On second thought, I’m glad you didn’t see the dress too closely. I’d hate to end in one of your stories wearing that thing in all its gory detail.” 

She said looking at the dwarf, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. She ran her hand through her hair. It had been slicked into a large, smooth vertical curl at the front of her head. Now it was sort of flopped over, random pieces sticking up.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get all this paste out of my hair. Silly human fashions,” she said looking at her now sticky hand disgustedly. “The worst part is,” Sethariel continued, “I have to admit they were right. The nobles treated me better in this ridiculous get-up. And what’s worse is the makeup looked pretty good, I mean, I looked quite scary. That was rather nice, I’ve never looked very intimidating. I’ve always fancied being intimidating, rather like Cassandra. My scars aren’t intimidating.” She said dismissively, “As for the shimmery stuff on my vallaslin, that’s ridiculous.”

“Hawke always wore her eye paint like that, she refused to go anywhere without it,” Varric mused.

Hawke had always made her own war paint, as she called it, and refused to go anywhere without that thick, black stuff around her eyes. Hawke had worn it every day, even in the Deep Roads, and it never seemed to come off, even in the rain. She had said it was because it was made of a special blend of herbs and stubbornness. She also always wore that silly, blood red stripe across her nose claiming it was the blood of her fallen enemies. Broody had really believed it was blood at first. He’d been so disappointed when Blondie had gone and ruined it by explaining it was really just Hawke’s special formula of lip rouge. He sucked even more fun out of it by saying she made it with beets. Varric chuckled, a little sadly because of Blondie. Hawke, though, still wore the lipstick across her nose and most people still believed it was blood. She had told him the story once of why she had started wearing it, Varric made a mental note to tell the Herald one day when she really needed a laugh. He knew Hawke wouldn’t mind.

“Really? That makes me feel a little better about it,” she said sarcastically, though secretly it did make her feel a tiny bit better. 

She’d never really worn makeup before and felt a little guilty that she’d enjoyed it as much as she had, she should be focusing on helping to close the breach not prettifying her face.

“Except about the shimmery stuff,” Seth added more seriously.

“Except the shimmery stuff,” Varric repeated laughing.

Varric looked at the elf for a minute in silence, then cleared his throat.

“Look, Herald. I know this is weird question, and I don’t want to be rude,” he said, “but how old are you anyway?”

“It’s not rude,” Sethariel replied. She absently massaged the mark on her hand as she spoke, it was hurting again, “I’m twenty-seven.”

“Twenty-seven!” Varric nearly choked.

“Yes. Why? Something wrong?” Sethariel asked, giving the dwarf a surprised look.

“Kid, I was betting closer to seventeen. Everyone else thinks so too, I’d bet. You look so young. Is it some kind of elven fountain of youth potion?” he leaned in whispering the last part conspiratorially.

Sethariel laughed, “No, no fountain of youth. Why, you taking book on my age?”

The dwarf shook his head, “No, but I wish I had. Actually, you want to save this bombshell for a day or two? We could really collect big.”

“That would probably be unethical. I didn’t realize it was so shocking. I never thought about it, everyone in the clan has either known me my whole life or theirs. It never came up before. Though, it does explain some things,” such as why Solas called her da’len all the time. She paused, “This something I should tell everyone else, isn’t it?”

“I think that would be wise, Herald. They aren’t going to believe this,” Varric replied, still laughing, “Though we could still take a few bets first.”  

“ _It’s gonna knock some people for a loop,_ ” he thought, “ _I’d bet I know who, too. Buttercup might be a bit disappointed our girl’s an adult, though. She probably won’t help her pull pranks, no that she has so far._ ”

“I do have one question for you before you go,” Varric said. “I’ve noticed you say human not shemlan. Why?”

“Shemlan is supposed to be an insult. I happen to have manners,“ her tone was one of mock offense. The truth was she’d decided that if she was going to insult someone, it would be for who they were not what race they were

Varric smiled at the woman as she got up and walked toward the Chantry.

****

Sethariel went to Josephine’s office in the Chantry, leaned in, and knocked on the door lightly. The Ambassador looked up.

“Ah, Herald,” she said, putting her quill down. “Something I can do for you?”

“Do you have a moment, Josephine?” Sethariel said coming into the office.

Josephine nodded and gestured to the chair in front of her desk.

“First off,” said the elven woman sitting down, “my name is Sethariel, you really can call me that. Or Seth, it’s shorter. It makes me uncomfortable to be constantly called by my supposed title. Especially by friends.”

“I think I understand Sethariel,” said Josephine smiling.

“Second, Varric said I should inform you that I’m twenty-seven,” she said.

Josephine looked surprised, “Really? I thought…”

Sethariel laughed in her soft breathy way at the woman’s flustered expression, she’d never seen the ambassador embarrassed before.

“Varric was right!” she said, “He said none of you would realize because I looked like a kid. You know, he wanted to take bets before I told everyone.”

Josephine laughed too, “You do look young! I would have bet eighteen or nineteen, so I would have lost. I had no idea we’re the same age, I will have to notify your council and come up with a plan to disseminate this important information.”

The two women chatted for a while, bonding over their newfound commonality. Sethariel then left to attend to some business with the blacksmith. Josephine giggled the entire time she wrote memos to Leliana and Cullen about the Herald’s shocking revelation.

****

“Augh, she’s really an old one, yeah?” Sera chirped.

“I wouldn’t call her an old one, Sera,” Solas said primly with a little sniff, “I still don’t understand why you insist on treating this like some kind of personal affront.”

“You’re just in a huff ‘cause you didn’t know, yeah.” Sera said wickedly. She’d noticed how Solas looked at Seth when he thought no one was looking. He rather fancied her, but didn’t want too. Must have thought she was too young. Sera had also seen the way the Commander was when Seth was around. Andraste, he started making an arse of himself. It was hilarious. “ _Aaaaaugh, she’s popular innit she. An’ he doesn’t even know it! This is goin’ to be good._ ”

“Can we please just be done with this whole conversation,” Blackwall interjected tiredly, shaking his head, “I don’t see why it’s so important.”

The elves continued arguing anyway. Varric smirked into his ale, feeling pleased with himself. He still wished Seth had let him takes bets. At least he’d been able to see the look on Curly’s face when he found out she was a proper, grown up woman. Curly had turned as pink as that atrocious dress Seth was wearing earlier. He must have been feeling rather guilty about finding Seth attractive, thinking she was at least ten years younger than himself. Now that he knew they were on more equal footing agewise, Varric really hoped Curly would make a move sometime this decade. But he didn’t hold out much hope.

Varric knew Chuckles was interested too, but he seemed to be fighting it. He wasn’t sure if it was because he’d thought Seth was too young or if there was some other reason. Varric was leaning toward another reason. It reminded him a little of Blondie’s interest in Hawke. He had wanted her, but he had known he was no good. That hadn’t stopped him from going after her, though, and emotionally manipulating her. Varric just wished he had realized it then or he would never have pushed them together. It seemed Chuckles had more restraint, though Varric didn’t know why he was restraining himself. Varric wanted to back Curly, but he’d learned his lesson with Hawke and decided to stay out of it unless specifically asked for his opinion. At least, as much as possible. Varric was just unlucky in love and he knew it, even other people’s love. At least he was lucky at cards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoy writing Sera, but it is tiring.


	12. Down the Rabbit Hole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mage vs. Templar. With a dash of time travel to keep it interesting.

The mage versus Templar question was starting to drive Seth crazy. Josephine had announced at the beginning of the morning meeting had just received a promising message from some powerful Orlesian nobles who might be willing to set up a meeting with the Lord Seeker. The Lord Seeker had become quite power hungry, and had met with several of the nobles already. Combined with the invitation from the mages, she felt they could now approach either group from a good position for negotiation. This definitely took priority, so Seth postpone her trip to the storm Coast until the situation was dealt with. She’d also sent a message to the Bull’s Chargers asking them to wait for her since she had been unavoidably detained. They had been “discussing” the situation again for the last two hours.

“Can’t we try to talk to both? Honestly, if we could get both groups to call a truce at least long enough to help us seal the Breach, it would be the best solution.” Seth said, annoyed.

Everyone else stopped cold, staring at her like she had grown a second head.

“I know they hate each other, but isn’t it at least worth a try?”

“It might work, but we’d have to be careful,” Josephine said slowly.

“Do you have an idea, Josie?” Seth asked hopefully.

“I think it might. We could send a representative to Redcliffe, to start negotiation with the mages. I think you would have to go to meet with the Lord Seeker in person. Madame Vivienne knows of Fiona. She disagrees with her but says she is usually a fairly reasonable woman, hopefully that may mean she would be open to a truce.”

“Especially since she is holed up in Redcliffe with mostly children, elderly mages, and wounded. They aren’t an army, they’re refugees. My agents says she is doing her best to protect them, so it shouldn’t be too difficult to convince her to at least entertain the idea of a truce with the Templars,” Leliana added.

“You would have to go in person to meet the Lord Seeker though,” Cassandra said, “He won’t meet with anyone else.”

“If we could get both groups to work together, it would go a long way to stabilizing the situation,” Cullen agreed.

“I will see what I can do. I cannot promise anything but I will try,” Josephine said.

****

Seth suddenly found herself walking into Haven’s Chantry and she didn’t know why. It felt like she had just woken up while sleepwalking. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to clutch at memories that she thought should be there to explain what she was doing. She could only get bits and pieces and they were fading fast.

“ _What am I doing here? We - we left to meet the Lord Seeker. We met a weird rabbit-faced man and a handsome knight. And glowing red monsters killed the rabbit man…Or glowing red men?_ ”

Her thoughts were confused and her head was pounding. She concentrated, trying to remember more. Her head was hurting and the mark on her hand throbbed. There was something she ought to remember. Something important to do with the fade.

“ _Someone called the elder one was angry? There was a monster instead of the Lord Seeker. I was in the Fade. Something was trying to get me in the Fade but a boy helped me. I should remember… I should… What the hell is happening!_ ”

Then the memories faded completely. Seth stood on the Chantry steps for a moment and couldn’t remember what she was doing or why she had stopped. Seth pulled off the dark, leather glove she was wearing to look at the mark on her hand. It was hurting badly and was pulsing with green light. Then the light stopped and it went back to its normal faint glow. The pain subsided a little as well. Seth put her glove back on and headed inside for the morning meeting.

****

The mage versus Templar question was starting to drive Seth crazy. Leliana had announced some disturbing reports out of Redcliffe. One of her agents had reported the presence of a Tevinter Magister. Their reports weren’t confirmed yet, but it had been suggested that the rebel mages were negotiating with Tevinter. This definitely took priority, so Seth postpone her trip to the storm Coast until the situation was dealt with. She’d also sent a message to the Bull’s Chargers asking them to wait since she had been unavoidably detained. They had been “discussing” the situation again for the last two hours.

“Can’t we try to talk to both? Honestly, if we could get both groups to call a truce at least long enough to help us seal the Breach, it would be the best solution,” Seth said, annoyed.

Everyone else stopped cold, staring at her like she had grown a second head. Seth felt a sudden sense of déjà vu.

“I know they hate each other, but isn’t it at least worth a try?”

“ _I could swear I’ve said this before. We’ve had this conversation before._ ”

Josephine shook her head, “If the reports are true, no. There is no way we would be able to convince the Lord Seeker to meet with us if we were also meeting with mages allied with Tevinter. The same would go for the mages if they think Tevinter will help them.”

“The rumor that we were talking to both side alone might be enough to ruin any such alliance. Then we would be left with no mages or Templars,” Leliana added.

“It was worth a thought, but if it won’t work… We’ll have to choose a side,” Seth conceded, “An alliance between the mages and Tevinter would be bad. Josie, you said the mages have a lot of refugees?”

“Yes,” Josie confirmed, “They have several hundred children with them as well as many elderly and wounded mages.”

“Then, maybe we can convince them an alliance with us would be a safer bet. We’ve already helped them by stabilizing the region around Redcliffe. I think we should contact the mages,” Seth decided.

“Herald!” said Cullen.

“It makes sense!” she said firmly, pursing her lips slightly and frowning at the Commander, “We need their magic to help seal the Breach and even if the Templars could do the job just as well, a rebel mage-Tevinter alliance would cause a lot of tension. It might even lead to an open war with Tevinter. Besides, we don’t even know if the Templars will be willing to work with us. They haven’t been receptive so far and at least we have an invitation from the mages. The mage are refugees, and only a few are capable of fighting to protect themselves. It should make them more amenable to working with us than the Templars, who are basically a standing army.”

“I still fear this is a foolhardy decision,” Cullen said seriously.

“Commander,” Seth said, her tone becoming snarky again, “we have a total of three choices: contact the mages, contact the Templars, or sit here and argue until we all turn to dust. All three of these are foolhardy. Some just more than others.”

Cullen bowed slightly, fighting back a smile, “I defer to your judgment then, Lady Lavellan.”

They set about to making preparations for Sethariel to meet with the leader of the rebel mages, the former Grand Enchanter Fiona.

****

“Any advice for me before I go?”

Cullen spun to find Sethariel standing right behind him. 

“Advice?” he asked dumbly.

“About dealing with the mages,” she replied. 

She had a slight smile on her face, her head tilted to one side as she looked up at him. Despite being much shorter than himself, he always felt a little like she was looking down at him. It was odd.

“But you’re a mage, Lady Lavellan.”

“Yes, but I’m rubbish at it. Besides I’m Dalish, I’ve never been in a Circle. I’m not sure how to deal with Circle mages,” Sethariel laughed. 

It was an odd sound. She just made short, breathing noises rather than actually laughing. Cullen felt heat creeping up his neck.

“Oh, yes. Well, no. Not really. I mean, my job wasn’t really to. Uh…” he stopped, he sounded like such an idiot. Cullen took a breath and started again, calming himself, “You need to be careful. Many mages, Circle mages, turned to blood magic when the rebellion started. Fiona has officially denounced the practice, but even if she doesn’t approve there could be others around her that have made deals with demons. They’ve been on the run for a while, they will be desperate. Most importantly, watch the Tevinters. They are a ruthless lot. We had a magister show up in Kirkwall once, it ended very bloodily.”

She was still watching him, her arms crossed, a small frown on her face now. She had her left hand, the one with the mark tucked firmly under her arm. He wondered if the mark hurt.

“Thank you,” she said solemnly.

“Of course,” he gave her a small bow and began to turn away, thinking the conversation was over but she spoke again.

“Sorry for bothering you with all my questions the other day. I was just curious.”

Cullen's cheeks were burning, he reached up and rubbed his neck. She’d avoiding saying the word 'embarrassed' in her apology, but he knew she was aware of how embarrassed he had been and of how embarrassed he was now. 

“That’s alright, it was no bother Lady Lavellan.”

“I’d really prefer if you didn’t call me that Cullen,” she said quietly. 

He looked at her, startled. He was certain that was the first time she’d called him by his given name. 

“I have a name, feel free to use it,” her tone softly sarcastic.

“Alright... Sethariel,” calling her by her first name felt weird, but she smiled at him again. His face grew hotter.

“Thanks again, Cullen. We’ll be leaving shortly, I’ll make sure to send you a report as soon as we have news,” she said and headed back into Haven. 

His face was still warm, he wished he wasn’t so easily flustered.


	13. Through the Looking Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seth goes to Redcliffe to meet with the Rebel Mages and nothing goes as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is late. It's been a busy few weeks.

Seth looked at the young man who had just stumbled into her arms, presumably about to faint.

“ _He’s faking! He’s bloody faking! I can see him peeking at his father. What the hell is going on here?_ ” 

First, Fiona had claimed she had never invited Seth to meet. Then she had claimed to have made an alliance with Tevinter the same day the Breach had been slowed, a choice she obviously regretted. Now a boy was pretending to faint on her.

Magister Alexius didn’t realize it was a ruse and jumped out of his chair, helping his son to his feet.

“It’s alright, Father. I’m fine,” the young man, Felix, was pretending to still be shaky.

“Excuse me, my lady Herald. But I must attend to my son. Come Fiona!” he barked sharply and swept out of the dingy tavern, still helping his son to walk.

Seth waited until the magister’s entourage had left before looking at the note Felix had shoved into her hand.

“Someone wants to meet us at the Chantry,” Seth announced quietly.

“It could be a trap,” Cassandra warned.

Sethariel shook her head. Felix’s act had completely fooled his father. There must be something really wrong with his health for the Magister to look so scared. 

“I think we should go,” Seth said.

“Come on Seeker,” Varric said with a laugh. “If we know it’s a trap, it makes it a trap-trap. Which makes everything even.”

Cassandra made her usual disgusted noise, but didn’t argue. The group left the tavern and headed to the Chantry. As Seth pushed open the door, the mark on her hand flared slightly.

“There’s a rift inside,” she warned throwing open the door. They entered quickly and she shut it again, to keep any demons from getting out.

Inside a mage was surrounding by wraiths and shades. He was keeping them at bay but was getting overwhelmed. Seth and her companions were able to help him finish off the demons fairly quickly and Seth closed the rift.

“About time you got here!” the man exclaimed, sounding like he was scolding them for being late for tea. 

He dark eyes, perfect dark hair, and an ornate mustache and goatee. He was fancy, even covered in blood and ichor and panting from the fight.

“Who are you?” Seth asked, not in the mood for games.

“Dorian Pavus, at your service,” the man said with a flourish bow, then grabbed Seth’s hand and kissed it.

Seth rolled her eyes, “Stop acting like you’re waiting for applause and just tell me what is going on.”

“Oh, no applause. Oh well. I shall have to survive. Magister Alexius is playing with time.”

“That’s preposterous!” exclaimed Cassandra.

“That… makes an inordinate amount of sense,” Seth said quietly, frowning. 

Her eyes narrowed. It did make sense, it shouldn’t but something told her that it was true. She could  _feel_  it was true.

“Let’s say I believe you,” she said to Dorian, “How is he doing it and why?”

Solas made a little cough of disgust, he’d been spending too much time with Cassandra. It was plain he thought the Tevinter having time magic ridiculous.

“I used to be his apprentice. We have been researching time magic for a long time. It’s always been purely theoretical until now. Somehow he got it to work. I recognize the magic, I helped develop it, but it never worked. It wasn’t really supposed to.” Dorian continued, his tone becoming slightly angry, “As to the why, my dear woman, Magister Alexius is the member of a Tevinter-supremacist cult called the Venetori. They want the supremacy of Tevinter over all of Thedas and they want you dead.”

“Well, shit,” said Varric.

“Of course they do,” Seth sighed. She the bridge of her nose for a moment, her eyes closed, her head and her mark were both throbbing. There was also something else, a strange feeling that defied description. The sensation was familiar, but she didn’t know why. “Do you have an idea of how to stop it?”

“I do if fact. Ah, Felix! Finally. I was getting worried.”

Sethariel turned to see the magister’s son Felix slipping into the Chantry through a side door.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have played the sick card. I didn’t think I was going to able to get away,” Felix apologized.

“It’s alright,” Dorian waved dismissively. 

They explained what they knew of the Magister’s plan.

“He’s working for someone, or something rather, called the Elder One,” Felix finished. “You have to believe us. My father is doing something terrible, we need to stop him.

“I believe you Felix, we will have to deal with this,” Seth said. 

This was going to be trouble.

“I think we should return to haven as quickly as possible and consult with the others,” Cassandra added, she was worried.

“I want to be there when you deal with him,” Dorian was fervent. “I can’t stay in Redcliffe but I’ll be...”

Magister Alexius suddenly burst through the doors. Felix and Dorian both swore softly in Tevene.

Everything happened quickly, but the Magister did something with an amulet and Sethariel felt that same lurching, sick feeling from before. The one she couldn’t quite remember. Dorian was grabbing her trying to pull her away from a sick colored portal but it sucked them both in.


	14. What is the time? Never mind, it's not important...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seth and Dorian are flung forward in time.

“Oww,” Seth groaned. 

They landed in a flooded room, her hand were scratched up and she still felt nauseated.

“Time magic,” Dorian told her while he helped her up. “I’m not sure when we are. Or where.”

“Probably a dungeon.”

“Wake up in dungeons often?” he asked flippantly while casting a spell to light up their surroundings. 

It was, in fact a dungeon. However, it looked disused. One door hung off it’s hinges. It seemed as good a way to go as any so they headed that way.

"You'd be surprised," Seth stumbled, but Dorian caught her before she fell.

“Whoa, maybe we should rest for a moment. You don’t look so good,” he said, finding a relatively dry spot for her to sit. 

She leaned back and tried to take deep breaths. 

“Are you going to be alright?” he checked her for injuries, “Did you hit your head? I’m not a good healer but in a pinch…”

“No,” she was feeling a little better after sitting for a moment. Her left hand ached though, Seth held it out to him. “The time magic, it seems to react badly with the mark. This has happened before, though not this bad. I think before it was Alexius experimenting. Travelling through the time rift, made it worse.” 

She reached in her pouch and took some of her headache drops. She'd been getting a lot more headaches since she had the mark.

Dorian gently grasped her hand. “May I?”

She nodded. Every mage she met wanted to probe the damned thing. None of them could figure it out though.

“It seems to be rolling out waves of, well, for lack of a better term, angry magic. It’s dissipating though. You are quite correct my dear Herald, your mark does not like time travel.”

Seth chuckled, “Seth, please.”

“Dorian,” he replied with a grin and an elaborate bow. She noticed his fancy robe only had one sleeve.

“Pavus means peacock, right?” Seth asked with smirk as she rubbed her temples. “Fitting it seems.”

“Quite correct! In the old Tevinter language, Pavus does indeed mean peacock.” He helped her to her feet, “Feeling more steady?”

She gave a curt nod, “We need to find a way back to our own time.”

“Agreed,” Dorian said solemnly, “We need to get the amulet from Alexius.”

They set out to find him. They had found a staircase leading up into another level of dungeon. This level was dry but the was red lyrium everywhere. It grew out of the walls and floors, crumbling stone. It made both mages very uncomfortable.

They were passing through a junction when Seth hear a small moan from a cell nearby. They found Fiona with the red lyrium growing out of her and seemed to be embedded into the wall. She was grotesque. Most of her body was encased in the stuff and what wasn’t was twisted in pain. A large shard was growing out of an eye socket. Seth and Dorian were frozen in horror.

“What happened?” Sethariel managed to ask.

“The Ol’ One…” Fiona croaked, her words obstructed. “Had Alexius grow more red lyr’m. He’sh taken ov’r,” Fiona was shaking with effort. “Thou’ you were dead,” she managed.

Dorian explained what had happened to the woman. His voice was soothing and she seemed to relax a little.

“Then go shtop the bash’tards.” Fiona spat.

“We will,” Seth promised. “Is there anything we can do for you in the meantime?” 

The woman was obviously in great pain.

“No,” Fiona said hollowly, “Go.” 

She closed her eyes and her head moving slightly to drop back against the wall.

Seth stood for a moment then looked at Dorian. His expression was one of pure horror. She grabbed his hand. 

“Come on,” she said gently. “We have to keep moving.”

Dorian nodded and let her lead him a little. Then the heard someone reciting the chant.

“Cassandra!” Seth gasped.

The sound was coming from behind a heavy door. It was unlocked. Seth opened it to find Cassandra sitting in prayer, her back to them. She had spikes of red lyrium growing out of her too.

“Oh Cassandra!” Sethariel choked back a sob.

Cassandra turned, her chanting stopped. Her eyes glowed red and her voice had a strange echoing quality.

“You are not here. You are dead and this is a hallucination,” she said, her voice weary.

Seth gripped the bars of the cell, “No! Cassandra it’s me. I didn’t die. I was sent forward in time.”

“Send forward in time, how?” Cassandra asked hesitantly.

“The magic Alexius was using to manipulate time, he used it on us,” Dorian supplied, he gently pushed Seth aside and melted the lock on the cell with a hot, magical flame.

“Come on Cassandra, were going to stop this,” Seth said as she moved toward the other woman to help her up.

“No! Don’t touch me!” 

Seth pulled back. 

“You might be infected too,” Cassandra said wearily as she used the wall to raise herself to her feet. “They force fed it to us, but I think exposure can infect mages.”

“Is anyone else here?” Seth asked. 

Cassandra had said ‘us’.

Cassandra gave a stiff nod, “Varric and Solas should be around here somewhere. If they are still alive. They’ve kept us separated.”

Seth lead the way out, trying not to look at Cassandra. They found her sword, shield, and armor in an adjacent chamber. Bianca and Solas’ staff were in there as well. Seth picked up Bianca carefully but Cassandra crossed the room jerkily and snatched her from Seth’s grasp.

“I will carry this,” Cassandra said softly.

Seth nodded and grabbed Solas’ staff, slinging is across her back on an angle so it wouldn’t drag on the ground. They kept looking. The first few cell blocks they checked were empty. As they approached the fourth one, they found the door was locked but they heard a rustling and a soft humming. Cassandra seemed to be feeling a little better because she kicked in the door, not even checking for keys.

“Varric!” she cried, hurrying to the cell. 

He too had been infected with red lyrium. Dorian again melted the locks again, Cassandra went in and helped the dwarf to his feet before giving him Bianca. A single reddish colored tear rolled down her face.

“Don’t cry Seeker. Bianca and I are back together, we’ll be ok,” Varric reached up and brushed the tear from her cheek. 

His voice was huskier than normal, and it seemed to be difficult for him to talk. When he turned to face Seth and Dorian, she could see why. A large chunk of red lyrium was growing out of his neck and throat. Horror was quickly giving way to white hot anger. Cassandra explained what had happened to Varric.

“Then, if we send them back?” he asked.

“We can undo this.” Dorian said firmly.

“Let go then, Bianca’s ready for some action.”

Varric also seemed to have an easier time moving once they got started. Now they just needed to find Solas. It took only a few minutes to locate the other elf. He was sitting silently, eyes closed, propped in the corner of the cell. He was in much worse shape than either Cassandra or  Varric. He wasn’t encased yet like Fiona, but the right part of his face was gone and that side of his body was twisted around sharp spikes of the red lyrium.

“Solas?” Seth asked. 

He hadn’t moved even after Dorian had opened the cell door.

She crouch down in front of him, his breath was shallow and labored. She reached out with her magic and prodded him, “Come on Solas, wake up.”

His eyes fluttered open slowly and he jerked. “Ma vhenan?” he whispered, his hand raised as if to stroke her cheek but he dropped it as his eyes opened all the way as he woke completely. “Sethariel? You are alive?”

“It’s me Solas. It was time travel,” she felt a deep sadness for him. 

_“Whomever he’s been dreaming about, he’d called his heart.”_

“Don’t come too close, the red lyrium...” he muttered.

“I know. Don’t fret. Cassandra, Varric can you help him up?”

The two tainted companions helped Solas to his feet. His was able to walk, but limped since he couldn’t bend his right leg because of the lyrium. Sethariel felt helpless. Solas stumbled and it took all her self control not to reach out and grab him. She gave him his staff and he leaned on it heavily. Dorian was muttering under his breath, he sounded as helpless as she felt. She reached out and grabbed his hand, needing someone to hold on to. He clutched at her hand too, like a drowning man hanging onto a lifeline.

They found their way to another staircase leading upwards. Cassandra held up a hand when she reached the top, she had taken point, “I thought I heard something.” 

The group cautiously made their way into the hall. There was a large door at one end, slightly ajar, the other end of the hallway was collapsed. Seth let go of Dorian and snuck towards the door. She peaked in, there were several guards but none of them noticed her. She made her way back to the group.

“Guards,” she hissed. “At least five.”

“We could try to find another way,” Dorian replied, but he already had his staff in hand and looked ready for a fight.

“Let’s go,” Cassandra replied, agreeing with the mages intent though not his words.

They got into position near the door. Sethariel, who was feeling good and angry now wrenched the door off its hinges with magic then electrocuted everyone in the room. Two guards dropped immediately, their corpses smoking ruins. The others scrambled to try to fight off the unexpected attack. Cassandra cut the nearest two down quickly while Varric filled the other with arrows. The battle was over very quickly. Solas had been able to give them barriers but didn’t seem to have the strength to do much else. He hobbled into the room behind them.

“We need to keep moving,” he said calmly. 

He sounded so very calm, almost like his normal self. She nodded. They would stop this if it killed her.

They exited the guard room to find themselves in a large curved hallway. There was screaming coming from a room farther up. The group rushed in to find Leliana hanging from chains bolted to the ceiling. A Venatori mage was torturing her. He turned to see who had burst in and Leliana grabbed him around the neck with the legs, strangling him for a moment before snapping his neck with a jerk of her hips. Seth got her down as fast as she could. Leliana’s face was missing an eye and she had shiny scars from burns as well as deep knife cuts on every inch of exposed skin.

“You’re alive?” she asked, angrily.

Dorian explained the time travel again. “We can prevent this future from ever happening.”

This enraged Leliana, for a moment she looked like she was going to strangle Dorian. Sethariel stepped between them.

“This is all pretend to you, some future that will never exist. I have suffered, the world has suffered. It was real,” Leliana hissed.

“I know,” Seth said, trying to keep her voice calm, “But our world does not have to suffer the same fate. Help us, please.” 

It didn’t matter if this was another world or a future that would never happen, it had happened for this woman and she deserved their respect.

Leliana gave a curt nod, “No one should have to go through this.” 

She sighed and grabbed a bow and quiver from a nearby chest and led them out. With Leliana’s help they were able to make it to passage leading to the throne room quickly.

Sethariel couldn’t help but ask Leliana what had happened.

“No.”

“Leliana, I need to know. If I have any chance of preventing this from happening in my world when I get home, I need to know what happened,” Sethariel pleaded.

Leliana looked at her then gave another curt nod,  “Maybe you should know.”

She was silent for a moment before continuing, “After you disappeared, there was confusion. We were trying to figure out what to do when the Empress Celine, of Orlais, was assassinated as was her cousin, Duke Gaspard. Without any heir, Orlais fell into chaos. More rifts were opened and the Elder One lead an army of demons and red templars across Thedas with the help of Alexius and the Venatori. All of our remaining forces were holed up in Haven. When they reached us, the Commander lead our remaining troops to try to give us time to escape but it was to no avail. They were wiped out, including your remaining companions. The Venatori tried to captured the Commander but he fell on his sword rather than become of their red templar abominations. I…” She bit back a sob, “I slit Josie’s throat myself so they couldn’t do that to her. They got to us before I had a chance to kill myself too. It’s been over a year. Anyone left alive has been used to grow more red lyrium or for their blood.”

Seth felt herself go cold. They needed to get back to their own time to prevent this from coming true. She wanted to scream, and cry, and swear but all she could do was jerk her head to indicate she understood. Everyone was dead. Everyone she’d ever known or cared about had died in the most horrible ways imaginable. She couldn’t even imagine what they’d decided to do to her clan. To Deshanna.

They reached the hall to the throne room. It was locked, magically. Dorian said they could probably find the pieces of the key fairly easily but Seth wasn’t interested. She felt the magical lock, it kept the door closed but it wouldn’t stand in her way. The wall wasn’t weight bearing so she hit the wall around it hard with a concentrated blast of fire. The entire thing exploded, leaving a smoking hole for them to walk through. She was grateful she had gained so much more control over her magic.

“Lets go,” Seth lead the way.

“Oh my,” Dorian squeaked.

“Da’len…” Solas said softly. 

He was worried, she’d used almost all of her mana to blow the wall.

“Let’s go,” she repeated. 

Seth was not in the mood for lectures.

At the end of the long hall was the throne room. It was unlocked. Sethariel stormed in, Alexius was standing on a dais at the far end. His back was to them, Felix was crouched on the floor next to him cackling softly to himself and rocking back and forth. There was something very wrong with him. He looked like he might have the Blight.

“It’s over, Alexius,” Seth spat.

“Of course, I knew you’d reappear one day. Not that it matters. I failed to destroy you, my final failure,” Alexius said. 

He didn’t turn to face them.

“Was this worth it, what you did to the world? To yourself?” Dorian asked, his disgust palpable.

“It doesn’t matter now. All we can do is wait for the end,” the Magister’s voice sounded weary. “The Elder One comes. For me, for you, for us all.”

Seth made a strangled noise of anger. She was done. Leliana moved to grab Felix but Sethariel had already reached the magister, she buried her dagger into his spine at the base of his neck as hard as she could. The blade buried itself right up to the hilt. The magister made a noise that gurgled as blood bubbled from his mouth and throat. The blade had gone right through his neck and out the other side. Seth twisted the dagger a little then pulled it free, letting the magister’s body drop. Then, she bent and cut the amulet from his corpse. She looked over to see that Leliana had slit Felix’s throat.

“He had the blight. It was the kindest thing we could do,” she explained. 

Seth just nodded, she’d been right when she recognized the symptoms. She turned back to Dorian, stepping off the platform and handed him the amulet. His face was ashen.

“Let’s go home,” she said softly grasping his hand, he nodded.

“It will take a few hours…”

“You have ten minutes at most,” Solas said softly, his eyes were closed. Sethariel could sense he was using magic to keep watch, “There are reinforcements coming, many of them.”

“I can’t do it in ten minutes!” Dorian sounded a bit panicked.

“Yes you can ,” Seth shook him by the shoulders a little, “You know everything there is to know about this. We have to get home, Dorian.”

He swallowed hard and nodded, “You’ll need to stay close to me, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it open long.”

“We will hold them off, give you time,” Cassandra volunteered. 

She looked down at Varric and grabbed his shoulder. Varric nodded, giving the Seeker a grim smile.

He patted Bianca then gave Cassandra’s hand a small squeeze, “Just me and my girls at the end.”

“I shall go too,” Solas interjected, limping forward. “I can work barriers and maybe some other magics that will help hold them off. Buy you some time.” He looked back to Seth, “Dareth shiral, da’len.” 

He started to turn.

Seth nodded, biting her lip. She would not cry. “Atish’an, Solas.”

He nodded back and limped to the door. 

“Ir abelas, ma vhenan,” Solas whispered to his lost love, looking up at the ceiling for a moment as the door closed. 

Sethariel felt like someone was squeezing her heart. Leliana stayed with them, as the last line of defense.

Seth shifted nervously from foot to foot as Dorian began to cast. She could hear the sounds of battle, the screams of her companions. She wiped her face, she was sweating nervously.

“You can do it Dorian,” she said softly, trying to reassure herself as much as him.

The doors burst open, Solas’ was thrown into the room by a large demon. Seth could see the bodies of Cassandra and Varric in the hall. Cassandra was draped over Varric as if she died protecting him. She probably had. Their limbs were at odd angles and blood was pooling around them. Leliana was firing arrows as fast as she could, but was being quickly overwhelmed.

“Go now!” Leliana screamed as a terror demon descended upon her.

“Almost got it,” Dorian said, he was dripping with sweat.

Solas was not dead yet, but he was gravely injured. He managed to raise himself slightly and called fire down, immolating the demons as well as himself just as Dorian opened a rift. He managed to turn to look at them as he burned.

“Your sacrifice will not be forgotten, we will end this!” Seth screamed to him in broken elvhen as Dorian pulled her through.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is the last words of the poet János Arany.


	15. Back from the Future, Now with 100% More Yelling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seth and Dorian get back and Seth recruits the mages.

Sethariel and Dorian fell to the floor of the Redcliffe Chantry. It must have been the same moment as they had left because everyone was standing the the same places. Seth was nauseated again and had a terrible migraine but she sprang forward and punched Alexius in the face as hard as she could. He fell to the ground and she stood over him.

“Think you could get rid of us that easily?” Dorian sneered, spinning his staff so the blade was pointed at Alexius’ throat. “Oh, and I would advise you not trifle with my friend here, I’ve seen her kill you once. It was quite terrifying. In fact, that’s your blood she’s covered in.”

Alexius opened his mouth then snapped it shut when he looked at Sethariel’s face. Seth turned to face her companions, they were all right. She smiled broadly in relief. Cassandra, Varric, and Solas were all looking at her with varying degrees of surprise. 

“You’re all ok.”

“Where did you go?” Cassandra asked

“To a future, I’ll explain later,” Seth said and was about to turn back to Alexius when the Chantry doors opened again. Ferelden guards poured in, followed by a tall blonde woman. She was elegant and looked to be in her mid-thirties.

“What is going on here!” she asked angrily.

Fiona made a squeaking sound and rushed forward. “Your majesty…” she said plaintively.

“I want you and your people out of Ferelden. Now.”

Sethariel put an arm out and stopped Fiona mid bow.

Then, she marched up to her and crossed her arms, “I take it you’re Queen Anora?”

She looked down at her in shock, “Yes. You’re the Herald of Andraste?”

“That’s what they call me,” she replied curtly. 

Her lips were pursed, she knew she was scowling and she was covered in blood. Not the best first impression to make on a Queen but she didn’t care at this point.

“I’m sorry you seem to have been dragged into this,” Anora looked down at her with a scowl of her own.

“How the hell did you let this get so out of control?” she jabbed a finger at her. 

Her guards moved in, but the Queen waved them off.

“How is this my fault?” she replied angrily.

“Oh, I don’t know. You're the bloody queen, maybe should you have sent on some troops when you heard what was going on here with the mages and templars. If you’d had a military presence here it wouldn’t have been so easy for the Venatori to move in and exacerbate this mess. Monarchs and politicians! Bloody hell. You should have known better!” Seth threw her hands up in disgust. 

She was very angry but maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to anger this woman. Not that Seth cared for herself, she wasn’t her queen, but it could mean trouble for the Inquisition.

Shaking her head Seth added, “This has not been a good day.”

It wasn’t really an apology, but it could be construed as one in a certain light.

Anora was giving her a strained smile, “No it has not. What do you propose we do with the rebel mages then?”

“I’m going to offer them a place in the Inquisition. As equal partners. Not slaves or prisoners or servants. If they agree, they’ll be treated as equals. Any templars that want to join us will get the same deal. So will anyone else who wants to join. We’re not going to discriminate. Have a problem with that?” she looked from the Queen to Fiona.

Queen Anora stayed silent but was giving her a very strange look.

“We humbly accept, your ladyship,” Fiona said, bowing, “It will take us a while to get our people ready to go. We have many children and injured.”

“Agreed,” Queen Anora said, “Perhaps those who are not able to travel may stay, though they will be under guard. At least until better arrangements can be made.” She looked down at Seth, the Queen of Ferelden was smiling now, “Is that acceptable, my lady Herald?”

“It is very gracious. Thank you, um, your majesty?” Seth wasn’t quite sure what to call her.

“We shall make the arrangements with your people,” Anora replied.

The Queen and her entourage filed out of the Chantry. Fiona hurried off to inform her people of the change in their situation.

Cassandra had trussed Alexius up and Dorian had taken his amulet. He tied both amulets up carefully and told her that he would figure out how to safely destroy them.

“That was a neat piece of negotiation, da’len,” Solas said moving to stand next to her. “Our ambassador would be quite please with the outcome, if a little shocked by the method.”

Seth shot a glare at him, but it softened immediately. She remembered him as he had been covered in red lyrium and surrounded by flames.

“Never call me that ever again. Please,” she said earnestly, grabbing his hand. He looked confused, and was about to ask why. “Oh, screw it,” she gave him a big hug, his arms were sticking out at odd angles because he was too surprised to respond. Seth moved on to hug Cassandra and Varric before Solas could get over his shock.

“What happened?” Cassandra asked, eyes wide.

Even Varric was looked surprised, though it didn’t stop him from giving the still shocked Solas a friendly jab in the ribs.

“It was terrible. We were in the future, you were all infected with red lyrium and everyone…” Seth took a deep breath, she was shaking as all of it hit her. “I don’t think I can talk about this right now, I’ll write a report. I’m just glad you’re all ok. Send a message to Leliana, get some troops and a representative to meet the Templars immediately.”

She left her friends to take care of Alexius and went over to Dorian and Felix.

“You have the taint?” Seth asked softly and the young man nodded.

“I was travelling when I was ambushed by darkspawn. My father has become obsessed with trying to cure me but it’s not possible, I’m going to die,” Felix shrugged, “I’d much rather die in peace than be the cause of fall this.”

He looked sad.

“This is not your fault,” Dorian said, he was sitting next to his friend.

“Dorian’s right, you had nothing to do with this. If your father has tried to claim this was for you, it was an excuse. Do you have somewhere to go? You’re welcome to come with us.” 

Seth felt sad, Felix seemed to be a nice young man and he and Dorian were clearly great friends.

“I’m going to go to my aunt, she has a nice place on the beach outside Antiva. It’ll be a good place to spend my last days,” Felix smiled at her.

“We’ll make sure you get an escort so you get there safely,” Seth sighed, “now if you’ll excuse me, I’d rather like to get cleaned up.”

Seth rubbed her temples as she headed out of the Redcliffe Chantry.

“ _Mages and time travel. Templars and red lyrium? Creators. Now I have a headache in more ways than one._ ”


	16. Which Dreamed It?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of the aftermath of siding with the mages.

“I can’t believe you made them such an offer, without even consulting us!” Cullen was quite upset.

“I didn’t have the luxury of time,” Sethariel snapped back.

Even though he was vexed with her, Cullen couldn’t help but think Sethariel looked very pretty when she was angry, her green eyes flashing with annoyance. He had no idea she was thinking the same think about him and his honey colored eyes.

“I support the Herald’s decision,” Cassandra stepped forward.

Cullen was stunned. “You what?” he asked.

“I support her, she had to make a decision and she made it. No dillydallying or vacillating. We put her in this position, and she has risen to the challenge. It may not be the decision I would have made, but now we stick with it,” Cassandra was firm.

Dorian was leaning against the wall, nodding his agreement.

“I agree,” Josie added, “And she did a neat bit of negotiating with Queen Anora. That could have gone horribly wrong. We could have had to evacuate all of the rebel mages to Haven or even lost the support of Ferelden.” Leliana nodded her agreement too as Josephine continued, “We also have twenty-eight templars, lead by a Ser Baris, who have pledged their support to us after we saved them from the Lord Seeker. None of this would have been possible without her.”

“Thank you,” Seth said quietly.

Cullen surrendered. “I’m sorry, Herald. I did not mean to detract from your accomplishments. I just… I have a bad feeling about this.”

“I do too,” Seth admitted, “but we have no options. And, honestly, I have a bad feeling about the templars as well.” She quickly added, “No offense.”

“None taken,” Cullen bowed, he couldn’t help but smirk slightly. “I will need some time to finish the plans to get our new mage friends here.”

“Of course, I need to finish compiling my report on what happened when Dorian and I were thrown into the future. Excuse me.”

****

Seth sighed. They had galloped back to Haven as fast as possible, making the return trip in only three days by travelling day and night. She was tired and still felt sick but she needed to get this report together.

Seth was sitting in her small cabin on her bed. She’d tried sitting at the desk, but it hadn't helped. So, she moved to the bed. She was about to start writing again when someone knocked softly on her door.

Seth called out, “Come in.” 

She looked up as Dorian entered. He looked as tired as she felt. He closed the door and stood there for a moment.

“Are you alright?” Dorian asked finally.

Seth rubbed her face with her right hand, then pinched the bridge of her nose, “Not really, you?”

“Not really,” he replied with a shrug.

Seth patted the bed, pulling her legs up under her. Dorian came and sat on the edge, feet on the floor, head down.

“What are we going to do?” he was tired and scared.

“I don’t know, but we have to stop them,” Seth put her unwritten report on the side table and scooched over to Dorian. She patted him lightly on the shoulder, in what she hoped would be comforting way, “We have some intel, we’ll put it to good use. And we stopped Alexius, that’s good right?”

“True,” he gave her a small smile then frowned, “Have you been having nightmares?”

“Yeah. I keep seeing myself stabbing my dagger in Alexius over and over. Then my friends bodies,” she shivered slightly, not describing the rest of her nightmare.

“I keep seeing Felix. Corrupted and cackling right before Leliana slits his throat,” Dorian swallowed. “But it’s not real. You didn’t kill Alexius, not really. And Felix will get to die with dignity.”

Sethariel shook her head, she moved so she was sitting next to Dorian with her legs hanging off the bed, “I did kill him, not here and now but in that world. I didn’t even think about it, that scares me. But at least we have an edge now...” Her voice became icy, “And we won’t let this Elder One destroy our world.”

Dorian draped an arm over her shoulder and she leaned against him. She kept seeing the bodies of her friends, Seth wanted to cry but didn’t have any tears, they seemed to be frozen. 

So she continued, “Anora said she’s going to send Alexius to us for judgement. She thinks the Inquisition should deal with him.”

“First name basis with the queen of Ferelden. My, my. So fancy,” Seth elbowed him lightly as he waggled his eyebrows.

“Creators! I’m not one of her subjects,” Seth said with a sniff of feigned indignation.

Dorian laughed. The door to the cabin opened and a young elven, servant girl came in carrying a tray. Dorian and Seth both looked up. They were still sitting on the bed, his arm draped over her.

“Oh!” the girl squeaked turning bright red. 

Seth recognized her as the same girl, Jina, who’d come in when Seth had first woke up. Jina stood frozen for a moment then put her tray down on the nearest surface and rushed out slamming the door behind her.  

Sethariel burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it, poor Jina was forever being terrified by Sethariel. 

Dorian starting laughing as well, “That’s going to be around this place quick as you please.”

“C’est la vie,” Seth said, using the old Orlesian phrase, “Who cares?”

“You have a very lackadaisical view of your reputation,” Dorian lectured, pulling away to give her a disapproving look.

Seth shrugged, “Not long ago they wanted to execute me, I’m not going to worry much about what they think. They need me to close the breach. After, I plan on going home. My ‘reputation’ here isn’t of much concern.”

Dorian smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. 

He shook his head, “I just hope it’s that simple.” He looked over to her pile of papers, “Need help with your report?”

“I’ll get to it later. I’ve been working for a while, I need a break,” Seth said.

“Ok, well then. Let’s see...” He grinned. “So, what about you and Solas? He seems quite fond of you. Or how about you and the handsome Commander Cullen?”

“Dorian!” Sethariel’s ears turned quite pink.

He told her seriously, “You should never be afraid to be attracted to people. Love, affection these things shouldn’t be the subject of fear and anxiety.”

Seth looked at him for a moment, letting his words sink in. These were words of personal experience. Sethariel gave her friend a hug, slipping her arm back around him. She didn’t know what else to do.

Dorian smiled at her adding, “Besides, It’s our duty to appreciate the beauty around us.”


	17. When She Laughs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen debriefs Seth on troop movements. Dorian provides some distraction which leads them to a completly off topic conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow. such fluff. so cuteness.

Cullen was reviewing the troop movements again with Seth, outlining the route the rebel mages were going to take to get to Haven. It was going to take the mages at least a month to sort themselves out and send their representatives to the Inquisition stronghold. Queen Anora’s gracious offer to let the children and those unable to travel stay in Redcliffe had made their task more simple but it was still a lot of people to organize and move. They also expected the templars to arrive in about a week.

Cullen had briefed the council that morning, but Sethariel had a difficult time following along. She still wasn’t familiar with the area and was not used to planning the movements for armies, even smallish ones.

She was also still tired and ill from her trip. They had arrived at Haven two days ago, but the effects of the time travel were still evident. So, Seth asked Cullen to review the plans with her again and he had obliged.

They had gone to the covered area he used as an office in the practice yard where he had some smaller maps he had prepared for her. Cullen was explaining his plan for troop movements across the Hinterlands and the Fallow Mire when Seth saw Dorian standing behind him. Dorian was subtly trying to get her attention.

“ _What?_ ” she mouthed at the mage. Cullen was bending over the table and had his head down, absorbed in his map where he was tracing the routes for her, so he didn't notice.

Dorian pointed in a small but exaggerated manner at Cullen’s backside. Then he held up his hands, spreading his fingers, “ _Rating it a ten!_ ” he mouthed and bobbed his head while he grinned.  

Dorian loved to tease her when he thought no one would catch him. His favorite was to rate the attractiveness of the backsides of her friends and companions. Even the occasional random stranger. Everyone was rated under his fair and equitable system. He’d made a remark on their way back from Redcliffe and realized that even though she’s found it funny it had made her ears had turn pink. Dorian thought it rather amusing, so now they’d returned to Haven he’d continued on with the joke. He’d pop up randomly and whisper to her. Once he passed her a little note giving Josephine a highly complimentary, and well deserved, rating.

Now though, he was pushing it and she was getting annoyed. Seth made a disgusted noise and snapped her notebook shut. She’d been around Cassandra too much.

Cullen looked up at her thinking she was referring to his plan. Seth felt her ears turn pink and she gave Dorian a glare as he gave her two thumbs then hurried away pretending to be quite busy.

“ _Just like a naughty child,_ ” Seth thought.

Cullen looked confused and turned just in time to see Dorian’s retreat.

“Sorry, he was, um, trying to distract me,” Seth said with a shrug and gave the commander an apologetic smile, the tops of her ears were very hot indeed. “Dorian can be so…so... Well, Dorian. I assure you, he’ll be getting a lecture later about bothering people who are working.”

“You and he have become very close.”

Cullen couldn't help but feel a little jealous of him. The mage had become very close to the Herald very quickly. Dorian seemed to make her happy. In fact, she always seemed to smile around him. This made Cullen feel guilty about being jealous. Sethariel didn’t have an easy life, she needed, no  _deserved_ , some happiness. Even if it came in the dandified package of the Tevinter mage. Cullen had heard the rumors about the two of them. He’d told his people to stop gossiping, but he was wondering himself if it was true. Not that is was any of his business.

Even if he was interested in her, Cullen had nothing to offer the woman, he shouldn’t even let himself entertain the idea.

“Strange, I know. A Dalish elf and a Tevinter mage. We haven’t known each other long but he’s probably the best friend I’ve ever had. We have a lot in common and just, I don’t know, hit it off after we…”

She stopped, the color drained from her face.

“I see. Your experiences in Redcliffe brought you together,” Cullen said, his tone soft.

She nodded but didn't say anything. He could have kicked himself for saying it though. Her discomfort about what had happened with Magister Alexius was plain. She had written a report. It had given them the information they needed but it had seemed short on details. Narrative, as Varric would say. 

Cullen had wanted to ask about it but hadn't out respect for her feelings. He'd been trying to respect the fact she wasn’t ready to talk about her experiences yet and know he'd made a mess of it.

“Yes, I think that was a big part of it,” she added more seriously, she was looking off at the gate into Haven. “I know it sounds odd and rather trite, but that world we saw, what happened there, we share a bond because of it. Josie, Cassandra, Varric, Solas, you... We’d all be dead without him.”

Seth was quiet again for a moment, thinking. Seth liked Dorian, even though he could be trying at times. Dorian was bitingly sarcastic and acted confident, she could tell a lot of it was a show. He teased her and joked, but Dorian was really introverted. He was bookish and loved research. He had one face he showed the world and another that he only showed those close to him. It was that private face she’d been given a few glimmers of that she rather liked. Seth also rather fancied him the sibling she’d never had.

“Even if he is weird,” she laughed softly.

Cullen found her laugh strangely infectious. Those quick little breaths were odd, and its timing was usually sarcastic, but it made him want to laugh too. Even when he shouldn't. He couldn't help but wondering why she laughed like that, with no sound. Had she always laughed thus, or had she picked it up somewhere along the way? But it seemed rude to ask.

Seth turn to face Cullen again. “Ok, enough of the doom and gloom, let’s...” she gave him a puzzled look, “Is something wrong? You have such an odd expression.”

“Oh, no it’s just… I was…” Cullen flushed and rubbed his neck. He really wish he could break himself of that nervous habit.

“Spit it out. I don’t bite. Despite what Varric may have told you,” Seth could tell he wanted to ask something but was too uncomfortable to do so.

“Oh, well it’s just... your laugh…” Cullen was so embarrassed.

Seth tilted her head to one side, a slight frown on her face, “You think it’s odd, right?”

He nodded miserably, “ _Maker, how stupid and how rude!_ ” he thought.

But then she smiled, another breathy laugh escaping her. “Two reasons. One, I snort when I laugh.”

“What?” Cullen was confused.

“I snort. When I laugh. It’s horrible,” she was smiling and scrunched her nose up to make a playful face at him.

Cullen noted her arms were crossed defensively across her chest and she shrugged. At least, he was fairly sure it was defensive. She seemed to do that a lot though so he wasn't quite sure.

Seth continued talking, “Two, when I was a kid, I would sometimes sneak novels when I was supposed to be studying. No one expect you to laugh at a dusty, old tome on the trade routes of ancient elvhen pottery. So, I learned to laugh very quietly. It helps to avoid the awkward, ugly snorting thing as well.”

“Really?” Cullen couldn't help but smile. 

He pictured her as a small girl reading a novel hidden inside a large book while she tried to stifle her giggles. It was quite the humorous picture, but he couldn't imagine her doing anything ugly. Even snorting when she laughed.

“Really,” she laughed a little more.

Cullen suddenly felt the need to apologize, despite her seeming good humor, “I am sorry about asking, you must think me terrible rude, my lady.”

His blushing, which he’d hoped would have subsided by now, intensified.

“Fenhendis,” she swore softly in elven. Seth was getting sick of this ‘my lady’ crap, then realized Cullen might take it the wrong way. “No! It’s fine, it wasn’t rude, I’m the one who pried your random thought out.”

She smiled at him. Dorian was right, he was very, very handsome and quite sweet. He seemed to blush an awful lot though which made her feel like she was walking on eggshells around him. Not that any of that mattered right now, they had work to do. Besides, she’d be going home as soon as the Breach was closed. Friends were one thing, but she did not need to get involved.

“Um, we really should get back to work. I think you’ll need to start again, and go slowly so I can take notes,” she tapped his map and opened her notebook again, trying to be businesslike.

Cullen nodded with a smile and started explaining the troop movements again. He was glad that he hadn’t upset her by talking about Redcliffe or his rude question about the way she laughed. He was also a little pleased that he’d made her laugh, however inadvertently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Seth & Co. seem to move pretty quickly, but at this point I'm imagining pony express style stops set up by the Inquisition across Thedas in case of emergencies. I would supposed time travel and rebel mages for hire would count.


	18. I'd Prefer Not To

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time magic and rift controlling marks don't mix. Things kind of suck for Seth right now.

Josephine watched Sethariel and her party leave for the Storm Coast. They were planning to go and meet the mercenary band and be back before the mages arrived. Josephine was worried though. Something was not right. Seth had only been back from Redcliffe for four days. She had spent the whole first day preparing her report and briefing them on the situation. Then she’d been busy helping them prepare for the arrival of the mages and templars. Josie wasn’t sure if she’d even had time to sleep, Seth certainly did look like she had. Josie was worried she might be getting sick.

“What’s the matter Josie,” Leliana asked, concern in her voice.

“I’m not sure, I’m worried about the Herald,” Josie shook her head, “I think she may not be well.”

“Redcliffe greatly affected both her and Dorian.”

“Yes, but I think she may be actually sick,” Josie said after a moment.

Leliana looked worried, “Perhaps I’ll send a raven to Cassandra, tell her to keep an eye on her.”

****

Seth crawled out of her tent and into the trees to throw up. They’d only left Haven that morning but she was exhausted. Her head was pounding and she could barely keep upright. She was trying to get back into her tent unnoticed when she was caught.

“Seth?” Varric asked, “Are you ok?”

He moved Bianca out of her face.

“I’m fine,” Seth lied, then she felt nauseated again and gagged.

“Whoa, no. You’re not,” Varric said, “How long have you been sick?”

Seth rubbed her forehead before confessing, “Since I got this stupid mark. But it’s been getting worse.”

“Shit,” Varric said before leading her to sit down by the remains of their fire, “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“I was managing before, it wasn’t bad until Redcliffe. Just occasional migraines, which I’ve always had, and my hand would hurt but...” Seth sighed and put her head in her hands. “After we got back, it’s just been getting worse. More often and," she sighed again, "pains. But it comes and goes.”

“But why didn’t you say anything?” Varric repeated. 

He wasn’t angry, he was worried. He didn’t like people not telling him important things. It has been a problem for him before.

“The Herald of Andraste, crippled by the divine mark?” Seth muttered from between her hands, “I don’t want to be burned, thanks.” 

She kept her eyes closed and her head down.

Varric nodded in thought, he could see why she had hidden her problem. She was scared. But hiding it from them wasn’t helping her.

“We don’t have to announce it to the world. You know I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said soothingly, “nor would Cassandra, or any of us.”

“I know that now, but…” she didn't know how they'd react and she didn't want to be a burden.

“You should have told us,” Cassandra was right behind Seth.

“Honestly, you really shouldn’t try to hide things like this,” Dorian added with a frown. He was quite displeased with his friend, “Is there anything we can do?” 

He came and put a hand on her forehead, it was cold with ice magic and just a touch of healing. It felt delightfully cold and soothing. Dorian wasn’t a healer but he was a good mage and creative.

Seth looked at them, thankful that in the dim light they probably couldn’t tell how close to crying she was, “Thank you.”

“I don’t think we need to tell everyone about this,” Cassandra said firmly, "But you should consider it."

“I think you should tell Chuckles,” Varric added, “he is a healer.” 

Varric knew Solas was also very fond of Sethariel and would help her as much as he could.

“We can tell the others as needed, or if you’re comfortable,” Cassandra continue with a nod, “You may recover quickly, and there will be no need to speak of it at all.”

“Thank you, again,” Seth repeated an allowed her friends to put her to bed.

****

Cassandra glowered as she read the letter the raven brought.

“What the matter Seeker?” Varric asked quietly.

It was a few hours after dawn but they had decided to let Seth sleep in after her illness last night. A few hours more or less made very little difference in the journey the Storm Coast.

“Leliana wants me to keep an eye on Sethariel, she says Josephine is afraid she may be ill.”

“Ah,” Varric took a sip of the tea he’d made, “What are you going to do?”

Cassandra made a noise, “I do not know. I feel we should tell them but it is not my place.”

“Perhaps,” said Dorian, “You should just say you will. Then, you can tell Sethairel about the message and let her decide how to proceed.” He too took a sip of tea, then made a face before rooting around for the sugar.

Varric chuckled at the mage, but had to agree, “I think the Sparkler has a point, it’s a good compromise.”

Cassandra nodded, looking slightly relieved, “Yes, I believe I shall do that. It should be her decision.”


	19. From the Qun, With Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull, The Iron Bull.

Seth was happy to finally be on the Storm Coast. She liked being by the sea, and she had woke up with only a mild headache. The band decided to meet with the Chargers before addressing the rifts in the area. They headed to the beach where they were supposed to meet. The sounds of battle could be heard before they could see what was going on.

An enormous, horned Qunari was at the head of the band of mercenaries. He was tearing through the Tevinter soldiers and mages with a huge greatsword. He had no shirt and wore green and purple, blood stained pants. They reminded Seth of the illustration of a circus tent she had once seen in a children’s book. The battle was obviously staged by the mercenary band for their benefit since it only took them a few minutes to dispatch the Tevinter forces.

“The Iron Bull?” she asked as the Qunari approached her.

“That’s me!” he said brightly. 

He was probably two feet taller than her and she had to tip her head all the way back to look at him. That height didn’t include his massive horns.

He gave her his offer of his band’s services. When he finished he added. “One more thing, might make you pissed though. Ever heard of the Ben-Hassrath?”

“The Qunari spy organization?” Seth asked.

“Yeah, you’re well informed. Did your spymaster tell you about us?” he asked smiling, he seemed pleased she knew who the Ben-Hassrath were.

“No, I read something about them in a book once,” she said, her interest piqued.

“You’ve read a book on everything,” Varric added with a chuckle.

Seth ignored him, “Us, though? I take it you’re a spy.”

“Yeah.”

“And you just told me?”

“Yep,” he smiled.

“Why?” she asked, drawing the word out.

“Don’t really need to keep it secret from you. My job is to get close to you and report on the Inquisition’s movements,” The Iron Bull shrugged. It was a very large movement.

“What kind of reports?”

The Iron Bull shrugged again, crossing his massive arms. “Nothing that would jeopardize your people or your mission. The Qun just wants to know if they need to send in an army or if you have everything under control. Wild magic like this threatens everyone. Besides, I get reports from agents all over Thedas, I can them share with you. If your spymaster is worth her salt, she’ll be able to make good use of it.”

Seth looked him up and down for a moment. Then held out her hand, “Sound like a deal to me. Welcome to the Inquisition.”

“Great!” he shook her hand, the Iron Bull was astonishingly gentle. “I’ll look out for you Boss. Demons, dragons, whatever you need. The bigger the better.”

“Hmm?” Seth asked.

“You don’t just get the Chargers, Boss. You get me as front line bodyguard I’ll keep you safe,” The Iron Bull grinned. “Now, I need to gather my men. Krem!” he called and headed for his lieutenant.

“That’s at least an eight,” Dorian said, leaning over to whisper in her ear. “Maybe a nine.”

“My ass is definitely a solid ten, Boss. Don’t let the Vint tell you any different,” The Iron Bull called back to them.

Seth puffed out a little laugh, feeling much better, as Dorian turned an uncharacteristic pink. The Iron Bull strutted off to give his company orders to move out.

“Serves you right,” she managed to say between laughs.


	20. Once more unto the Breach, Dear Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sethariel finally get to try to close the Breach.

Fiona and her mages had finally arrived. It had taken them five week to get to Haven but they were finally there. There were over a hundred of them in total. Once they were settled in, Solas briefed them on what they would be needed to do. Solas, Cassandra, Dorian, and Cullen were going to accompany Sethariel, Fiona, and her mages. Ser Baris, his templars, and some of Cullen’s soldiers were also coming. Just in case. Seth sincerely hoped that “just in case” didn’t happen.

The next morning before dawn the entire troop of them marched up the the remnants of the temple. Cullen and Dorian both walked very close to Seth. Cullen was keeping a wary eye on the mages while Dorian was eyeing the templars. Seth was worried. She was afraid that their attempt to close the Breach wouldn’t work, or even make things worse. However, being marched between the two overly protective men was keeping her mind off it, at least a little.

****

Dorian sidled up closer to Sethariel and slipped an arm around her waist. He gave a sideways glance to the commander and was pleased to see the man’s slight scowl followed quickly by a  forced smile. Dorian was rather pleased.

“ _He truly does have a thing for her,_ ” Dorian grinned to himself.

The commander had a troubled past, but he was a good man: honest, brave, full of integrity, and quite the looker. He was also completely besotted with the diminutive Herald, which was good. She seemed to be quite taken with him too, despite the fact that he was an ex-templar and she Dalish mage. It seemed like the plot for a novel about star-crossed lovers. Maybe Varric should write it up. He would be happy to assist.

The only problem was that neither of them seemed willing to make a move. They were completely dense when it came to romance. This was going to be a challenge, but Dorian felt it his duty to help them.

Dorian also noticed Solas was glancing back at them at regular intervals. Dorian couldn’t figure him out. He’d seen him looking at Sethariel like a hungry wolf when he thought no one was looking and she seemed to be the only one that could make him really smile too. Oh, he smiled at Varric,or at funny comments but it never reached his eyes. His smile only reached his eyes when he was smiling at her.

Then, there was the Solas in that red lyrium future. Dorian had asked Seth what ‘ _ma vhenan_ ’ meant, and she’d told him it was a term of endearment that meant ‘ _my heart_ ’. She seemed to think he been referring to someone Solas had lost but Dorian was pretty sure it had been Sethariel the words were meant for. The way he’d spoken when he awoke, then tried to brush it off as grogginess, Dorian didn’t buy it. He’d seen the man’s eyes, he was not groggy. He knew with whom he was speaking. Then, the way he’d looked at her just before they went back through the rift followed by this time’s Solas blushing like a school boy when Seth had so spontaneously hugged him. No, the elf obviously had feelings for his friend but Dorian felt uneasy. There was something unsettling about him. He just didn’t seem to fit the persona he so carefully maintained.

“ _Methinks there is a story there… Could be a very interesting one too, but he’d break her heart. He would, I just know it._ ”

At least he seemed to know that as well, and seemed to be content keeping their relationship a merely friendly one. Besides, Seth had given no indication she was interested in Solas.

****

Cullen couldn’t help but scowl a little when he saw the Tevinter mage slipped an arm around around Sethariel’s waist. Not that he had a right to be jealous. Sethariel was a lovely woman, interesting and strong, but he was just the commander of their forces. Her colleague, of sorts, nothing more.

“ _Nothing more._ ”

Seth had already said she had a lot in common with the other man. They were both mages, they loved books, and seemed to be able to communicate just by looking at each other. So, if she was happy, Cullen was happy. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. Repeatedly. Very firmly and repeatedly.

****

It was taking a long time to walk up to the temple, with so many people. Dorian had let go of Seth’s waist but was now holding her hand. He was swinging it back and forth like a child in an attempt to be a little silly and cheer her up.

“ _At least the drops are working,_ ” she thought smiling at her friend while he swung her hand.

Solas had helped her adjust the recipe for her headache drops and they were much more effective. Her headache, which was perpetual now, was just a mild throbbing in her temples this morning.

She had finally told Solas what was going on, he was a proficient healer and well versed in archaic magic. He had been upset, though thankfully had refrained from calling her ' _da’len_ ' again. Then he’d said he would try to determine why the mark was affecting her and had helped her develop some treatments. Josie and Leliana she had written to while still on the Storm Coast. She had told them she hadn’t been feeling well and that it seemed to be a side effect of the time travel. This seemed to appease them, especially after she’d felt better after starting the new medicines.

Sethariel noticed that Cullen was still walking close to her, keeping an eye out for anything that might attack. He gave her a cheerful smile, it was a little forced, but sincere. Seth smiled back in a manner she hoped was reassuring. The sun was rising and the dawn light was shining off Cullen’s hair, it looked very pretty.

The Commander had slicked it down, as he always did, but it must have been hastily this morning because a few of his golden curls were escaping. Seth looked away, fighting down an enormous grin. She took a deep breath through her nose to clear her head but there was such an overwhelming smell from the two men, she started coughing. She didn’t know how she’d gone so long without noticing it, her nose must have been numb.

Dorian pounded her back lightly, “You ok?”

“No, you two stink!” she said through her coughing.

“What?” both men asked, startled.

“You two smell terrible. Creators! Dorian did you bathe in that aftershave?” she waved her hand in front of her face. His aftershave was a mix of flowers and spice, it usually smelled nice but it did really smell like he’d dunked himself in it this morning.

“Hey! I accidentally knocked it over and broke the bottle. I did get dragged from my bed at an ungodly hour for this little hiking trip of yours. And what about the commander? You said he stinks too,” Dorian protested.

“He reeks of armor polish,” she didn’t add that he also smelled of lemons, which was actually rather nice. “The two scents together are quite overwhelming. I shouldn’t have taken such a deep breath.”

Dorian laughed, his dark eyes looked quite merry, but Cullen blushed. He opened his mouth to say something but Seth grabbed his arm, linking their elbows and doing the same with Dorian.

“Don’t be offended Commander, I’m just a little tired and, quite frankly, grumpy. Lets just enjoy what’s left of this fine walk before we get to the Breach,” Seth forced a smile and marched on.

“ _It may be our last time together._ ”

****

Solas arranged the mages around the temple reminding them of what they needed to do. Ser Baris arranged his templars and Cullen stationed his men at exit points in case any demons came through. Cassandra and Dorian went with Seth into the center of the temple, where she’d been positioned.

Cassandra came and placed a comforting hand on the smaller woman’s shoulder. “Ready?”

Seth nodded. Cassandra gave her a reassuring smile and moved into position with Cullen.

Dorian approached, “You’ll be wonderful. When we’re done, I’ve got a nice bottle of wine for us.” He grinned and moved to stand next to Solas.

“We’re ready whenever you are, Sethariel,” Solas said with a nod and a smile.

Seth gave a sharp nod in return and took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She took her glove off and raised her left hand. The mark flared to life. She braced her wrist with her other hand and the mages channeled their power into her. Seth felt the Fade shiver then pull.

“ _It’s working!_ ”

She pushed harder through the mark, drawing as much power as she could. Out of the corner of her eyes she could see mages passing out from their exertions.

“ _Just a little more,_ ” she silently urged them, “ _Come on!_ ”

It seemed like time was suspended as she pushed against the Breach. The green light coming from her palm intensified. She felt herself scream though she couldn’t hear anything but the throbbing of her own blood in her ears. Then the Breach contracted in on itself and closed.

Sethariel fell to her knees, exhausted. She looked up, it was really closed. The whole affair had taken less than five minutes. Dorian and Solas rushed forward and helped her to her feet. Seth grinned, tiredly. Dorian grabbed her and spun her about before putting her down. The soldiers and still conscious mages were handing out lyrium potions and helping those who were unconscious.

“You did it!” Dorian cried, giving Seth a big hug.

“Ahh, get off,” Seth said as she hugged him back, “No need to go all sentimental on me.”

She slumped a little and Dorian had to support her.

Solas was beaming, hands clasped behind his back, “You did it lethallan! You’ve closed the breach.” He graced her an unusually large, wolfish smile.

Cassandra and Cullen had hurried over too.

“You have done it!” Cassandra exclaimed happily, grabbing Seth’s hand and shaking it heartily before giving her an affectionate hug.

“Are you alright?” Cullen was concerned, seeing how hard Sethariel was working to keep her eyes open.  

“Just a little tired.” Seth tried to walk forward but stumbled, “Fenhendis!”  

Solas caught her. He and Dorian half carried-half walked her over to a place to sit down, as she weakly tried to do it on her own.

“I’m alright!” she protested, but she could barely keep her head up.

“No, lethallan. You need rest.”

Solas took a lyrium potion Dorian had fetched. He uncorked it and knelt in front of Sethariel. Solas held it to her lips, supporting her head with his other hand. She felt a little better after drinking it but was still weak.

“She isn’t going to be able to walk down the mountain into Haven on her own,” Solas said.

“The only clear paths were too dangerous for horses,” Cassandra replied in a worried tone, “And we don’t have enough stretchers for the mages as it is.”

“Then, we will have to carry her Seeker,” Solas said, lifting Sethariel..

“I can carry her,” the commander offered.

“I can help too,” Dorian said, agitated. “If the other two get tired,” he added, giving Seth a wink despite his apprehension.

“No,” Seth said, she was not going to be carried down to Haven like an invalid. “I’ll walk. I just need - someone to help me get started. Put me down Solas.”

She was insistent.

Solas muttered some particularly salty elven swear words under his breath.

“Such language!” Seth said, trying to give him as stern but it broke with a smile.

The other elf put her back down, but wasn’t happy about it.

Cassandra stepped forward, “I’ll help her.” She helped Sethariel to her feet and draped the smaller woman arms over one shoulder, and supported her around her waist. “Men,” she muttered and they set off. Sethariel couldn’t help but laugh.

By time they were half way back to Haven, Sethariel was strong enough to walk on her own, though she was still exhausted. The three men hovered just behind the two women as if they expected to Sethariel to drop at any moment. They hadn’t settled even by time they reached the village.

Everyone was there to greet them.

“Three cheers for the Herald!” someone shouted, it sounded like Krem. The entire village, the soldiers, everyone assembled cheered.

Leliana and Josephine came up to congratulate Seth as did the rest of her friends. Cassandra pulled her out of the throng and marched her to her cabin.

“The Herald is tired, she need a rest before celebrating,” Cassandra shooed everyone off.

“Thanks Cass, I owe you one,” Seth said sinking into her bed.

“You are alright?”

“Yes, I’m really just tired.”

“Well, you did just close the Breach. Sleep a little, then come join us and celebrate.”


	21. A Hero Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-Breach closing celebrations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In celebration of my birthday this week, I've posted two chapters. :)

Sethariel woke around noon, feeling much better. Her hand and arm hurt, but she didn’t have a headache. There was a faint buzzing in her head, but it wasn’t painful. She headed out into the village.

Everyone was celebrating. Tables, many of them makeshift, were set up everywhere despite the cold. There was food and drink for all. People toasted her as she passed, and cheers followed her.

Seth ran into Krem. “There’s our triumphant Herald!” Krem cried merrily and clapped her on the back.

“Thanks Krem. Having fun?”

“Of course,” he grinned. “Have you found your friends yet?”

“Just you,” she replied with a smile.

She and Krem got on famously.

“Gah, you just have a weakness for us handsome Tevinter men,” Krem said laughing.

Seth nodded, smiling. “True.”

“I’ll take you to the rest of your gang,” he led Sethariel through the milling crowd to the tavern.

She had to grab his hand so she wouldn’t lose him. They tried to push through but made no headway until Krem started shouting, “Make way for the Herald!”

The crowd cheered and parted for them.

Sethariel’s inner circle, even Vivienne, were seated at a large table in the middle of the room. Cassandra and Solas made room for her between them. She indicated Krem was welcome to sit but he shook his head, a mischievous grin clearly saying he had better places to be.

“Your lady friend?” she mouthed. He nodded and she couldn’t help but grin. She was so pleased things were working out between them. Krem had been a little nervous but Seth had kept reminding him if the girl was worth his time, she would like him for himself.

The Iron Bull shouted, “Speech! Speech! Speech!’ and pounded his mug on the table. Vivienne arched an eyebrow at him, but she seemed amused.

Seth shook her head, she didn’t have anything to say, but the rest of the table took up the cry. She gave in and stood.

“So, we’ve closed the Breach. Umm….Thank you all for coming. Have fun!” Seth sat back down. The tavern erupted in laughter and more cheers. Her short speech seemed to have pleased them.  

Dorian was sitting across from her, leaned forward and asked through his laughter, “Thanks for coming? Thats your big speech?”

“You wanted it to be longer or you wanna go back to drinking?” The Iron Bull grinned.

"Brevity is the soul of wit," Vivienne almost smirked.

"Exactly ma'am," Bull said in his most respectful tone.

“Drinking! Drinking! Drinking!” shouted Sera, ignoring the First Enchanter. Sera looked like she was already feeling a little better, or worse. for the wine. “And cake!” She shoved a heaping plate of cake at Seth, “Saved this for you!”

Seth and Sera were on better terms now. Seth had gotten a little more used to the younger woman’s different personality and Sera had, somewhat, accepted that Seth needed a lot of quiet time. Seth thought they might even become friends.

Seth thanked her and took a bite, it was delicious, “This is lovely.”

Dorian gave her a large glass of wine. “Good vintage,” he told her.

“Okay,” she took a sip. She did not like it, it was too tart, but she gave him a smile and surreptitiously slipped the rest to Varric.

The partying continued on, but after about an hour the noise in the tavern was getting to be too be too much for Sethariel. She slipped out and her friends followed. They set up a large blanket on the floor of Seth’s house, in front of the fire, and had a picnic. It was quieter and everyone had a nice time chatting and eating.

Josephine even dragged Cullen in to celebrate a little before he insisted on getting back to work.

“He needs to relax,” Varric said shaking his head at the commander’s retreating form. “He’s going to kill himself with work.”

 


	22. Attack on Haven

Haven was still celebrating that evening when Cullen came and collected Seth and her inner circle, making sure they had their weapons.

“The scouts have reported what appears to be troops closing in our position,” he said gravely. “I think you should come see.”

They headed to the gates, to take a look.

“I can’t come in unless you open!” a voice cried. It sounded like a young man, and he was banging on the gates of Haven, “Let me in! I want to help!”

Sethariel felt funny, she knew that voice. “Let him in!” she ordered.

The guards hesitated for a moment but jumped to help her when she started opening the gate herself. A tall, thin, blonde boy with a ridiculous looking hat slipped in. The guards closed the gates again.

“The red templars are coming. They want to hurt you, but - you probably know that. The Elder One is angry with you. You took his mages. He’s so loud,” the boy said, grabbing Seth’s hand.

“I know you,” Seth said, “How?”

“I’m Cole. We met but didn’t. It was with the red templars.”

Seth nodded, “How long do we have before they get here?”

“Not long. The Elder One is very angry.” Cole whispered conspiratorially, “He has a dragon.”

“Herald, you don’t seriously believe this? Someone is headed our way, but a dragon?” Cullen asked.

She knew it was true even though she wasn’t sure how, “I know it sounds crazy Cullen, but I know this, um, boy. He’s trying to help. And what’s coming our way is bad. Very bad.”

“He seems to be a spirit,” Solas said with some interest.

“Yes…” Seth said slowly, “I know.”

“An abomination?” Vivienne gasped and Cullen gripped his sword, “Herald, you can’t trust him,”

“He is not an abomination, he is a spirit. This is the form the spirit has chosen, he is not possessing anyone,” Solas stated, clasping his hands behind his back.

“A demon in human form, delightful!” Vivienne made a face.

“No, he’s here to help. You’ll just need to trust me on this Vivienne. He… he saved my life once,” Sethariel spoke slowly, her eyes narrowed, grasping at wisps of memories.

“You remember! You shouldn’t, but you do!” the boy said excitedly.

“Only a little, Cole,” Seth said with a soft smile and patted the boy’s arm affectionately. She turned to the others, “We need to get the people into the Chantry.”

“Luckily all the mages have made their way back down here from the mountain. They’re tired but they’re in good enough shape to fight. I’ve already sent out orders to get our troops into position and … Herald,” Cullen pointed and handed Seth his spyglass.

Out on the hills an enormous figure followed by glowing red men had appeared. The thing looked vaguely like a man, but corrupted, it was some kind of darkspawn. Varric gasped. Another figure joined it, it was a man but there was something wrong with him and he had a faint red glow to him. There was an army with them. They had at one time been men and women but now spikes of Red Lyrium jutted from their bodies. They were the Red Templars.

“That’s Samson,” Cullen said, his voice angry, “He won’t make this easy. We need to move now!” He started shouting orders to the troops.

“The Elder One made them red and angry. It sings bad songs to them.” Cole said sagely. “He’s angry you took his mages. You took some of his templars too. You weren’t supposed to.”

Seth began giving her own people orders, the Red Templars were almost to the gates. “Bull! You and the Chargers make sure the civilians make it the Chantry safely. Leave some to protect them, then get back out here. Solas, go with them to the Chantry, they’ll need your help in there. Blackwall, Vivienne, Sera, you go to the stay here and help Cullen. Try to keep to many from getting through. Dorian, Varric, Cassandra you come with me. We’ll run damage control. Cole, help keep people calm.”

Everyone scrambled to their jobs. Cassandra looked pleased with Seth, she was proud of the woman’s control and quick decision making.

The Red Templar attack was swift and vicious. Sethariel’s party managed to keep the trebuchets outside the walls much longer than anticipated but were eventually forced to sabotage them and retreat back to the gates. The templars numbers were so great they managed to breach the walls at one point. Seth’s band and the soldiers were able to drive them out. Unfortunately, the village was on fire. They were able to rescue the few people trapped by the fires and get the wounded to safety.

Seth was heading to the gates she saw the dragon. The troops retreated and everyone headed into the chantry, barricading the door.

“I’m afraid we’ve lost the time you bought us,” Commander Cullen said sadly.

“It’s not your fault. Perhaps we should look into procuring a dragon,” Seth replied, her humor a little forced.

“We can use the trebuchets to start an avalanche,” Cullen added, “At least that will stop them.”

“But the entire village will be buried,” Sethariel protested.

“At least we will get choose our deaths, very few have that choice.”

Sethariel bit back a scathing comment, the commander had a point and it was clear he was not making this suggestion lightly.

“He wants to help,” Cole said.

Both the commander and Herald turned to see Cole supporting a badly wounded Chancellor Rodrick. The man had a deep wound in his side that he was clutching at weakly.

“He needs to say something. It’s important,” Cole said, getting the man to a seat. Seth came over and used a little healing magic to examine him. He was going to die, he had a punctured lung and several of his internal organs were severely damaged. The Chancellor had also lost a lot of blood. She was able to use her magic to dull the pain a little and stop some of the bleeding.

With Cole’s help, the Chancellor told them about the path out the back of the Chantry.

Seth took the Chancellor’s hand, “Thank you for telling us this.” She lowered it gently and turned, “Cullen, you need to get everyone out.”

“What about you?” he asked though he knew the answer.

“I’ll go deal with the Dragon and this Elder One and buy you the time you need. I’ll start an avalanche and bring the whole bloody mountain down on them. Send up a signal when you have everyone clear.”

“But… what about you?” He shook his head. “Perhaps…” Cullen swallowed, “Perhaps, you’ll surprise it,  find a way?” He tried to make his tone hopeful.

“Ahh, you know me, I’ll come up with something,” she shrugged, trying to feign confidence she didn’t feel, “You just take care of them.” She reach out and grasped his upper arm for a moment, “Good luck, Cullen.” She turned to leave.

“Maker watch over you,” he replied quietly then turned to get everyone moving out the back passage.

Cole was helping Chancellor Roderick up, but he made the boy stop and spoke to Sethariel. “Herald if you are meant for this, if the Inquisition is…” he wheezed heavily and began coughing up blood but continued, “I’ll pray for you.”

She nodded and gave him a small smile.

Seth took Cassandra, Dorian, The Iron Bull, and Varric. Solas protested but she needed him to stay with main group. He was the best healer they had and many people were injured. He acquiesced but before he left he grabbed her shoulder and turned her to look at him.

“Stay alive, lethallan. Don’t do anything stupid,” his voice was serious.

Seth looked at him sadly. “I’ll try, Solas. But I can’t promise,” she was serious.

Solas didn’t look pleased but joined the refugees. Blackwall and Sera had sense enough not to argue.

Sethariel and her small group moved out, fighting their way through to the trebuchets. They got them aimed and focused on holding their position until they got the signal from Cullen.  

Seth thought they were going to make it but then the Elder One and his dragon were bearing down on them.

“Move, now!” Seth shouted but her friends didn’t want to leave her.

She refused to see them die, “ _Not again. Never again,_ ”

Seth dragged up as much mana as she could safely and threw them bodily, using a combination of wind and barriers, towards the path to the Chantry. She didn’t give herself time to be surprised that it had actually worked because the dragon was now in front of her spewing hot flames.

“No!” Dorian shouted and tried to get back to her, Seth spared him a quick look and saw The Iron Bull grab the smaller man and haul him away.

“ _If I live I owe him pint, hell, a whole keg for that._ ”

But living was a big if. The dragon breathed more flames, this time she wasn’t able to roll away fast enough. The Elder One grabbed her by her left wrist lifting her into the air. He tried to do something to the mark but it didn’t work and he roared in anger. Then he threw her against the trebuchet. She had hit her head and was a little dazed, but seemed unharmed and she got to her feet as quickly as she could.

The Elder One was strutting towards her.

“ _Seriously, he’s strutting like a great… fucking, ugly peacock._ ”

Maybe she had hit her head harder than she’d thought. She tried to focus but her vision was starting to blur, “ _Oh, shit._ ”

He was talking, yammering on about how she was a mistake the Anchor should have never been hers. How he’d entered heaven to find the golden city empty.

“Whassit? You’re a magister? You look like shit,” Seth replied.

This didn’t make him too happy, “I am Corypheus, and I am your god.”

“No you aren’t. You can’t just go roun’ an… an’ fucking appoint yourshelf!” her words were horribly slurred, but she still managed to convey her utter disgust with him.

“You’re opinion is duly noted and ignored. You’ll be dead soon anyway,” he began to move closer.

Then, Seth saw the signal.

“Wrong bitch!”

He shouldn’t have left her so close to the trebuchet. She hit the lever, Corypheus’ eye or eyes, Seth wasn’t quite sure, followed the projectile. By time he responded to the avalanche, she was already running away. Albeit, somewhat unsteadily. She didn’t really think she could outrun it but she might be able to find a hiding place or something. The ground started shaking and she fell into a deep hole that opened in front of her.

 


	23. Somewhat Slightly Dazed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sethariel tries to make her way back to her friends in the Inquisition through a blizzard after being dropped down a big hole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long!

Sethariel had no idea how much time had gone by when she woke up. She tried to lift herself but her arm gave out under her. Her right arm was broken, she could vaguely see the bulge where the bone was sticking out. Seth couldn’t feel her arm at all which she knew was not a good thing but there was nothing she could do about that. It hurt to breath so she probably had some cracked ribs too.

Seth used a little magic to help her breath a little easier and scrambled to her feet, cradling the useless arm against her. Then the nausea hit and she emptied her stomach. Seth managed to stay upright by leaning against a wall of the cave. After a few minutes, she was enough recovered that she could somewhat assess her situation as best she could. Seth still was thinking straight so it took her several minutes to figure out that she had a healing potion that wasn’t broken. She drank it slowly. There was no point in saving it but she knew didn’t want to vomit again. Besides, she was tired and the cave she was in was fairly sheltered so she could rest for a few moments and try to get some kind of a plan together.

As the healing potion began to help her a little, Seth realized she was in some kind of tunnel. She wandered around for a time and found a path leading out onto the mountain. It was freezing cold with the snow up over her knees. She’d lost her staff but at least she was wearing a coat and boots. She walked for what felt like an eternity. Her steps were heavy and she was stumbling more and more as the night went on. She came across and old fire but it was long cold. Wolves howled in the night. Poor things, sounded like they were checking on each other. Maybe looking for lost pack members.

Seth slogged on. She needed to find her friends. She muttered to herself, her left eye was refusing to open. Her friends would be distraught if she died. And the world needed her to help close the rifts.

Seth remembered Dorian’s face as Bull dragged him away. She couldn’t do that to him. And…

“ _Creators, Cullen._ ”

He would blame himself if she died. He’d already started to blame himself when they’d parted at Haven. She’d just have to keep moving.

Seth had learned lots of good, new swear words hanging around with The Iron Bull and his Chargers. She used them liberally as she shuffled on through the snow.

****

Seth had seen the lights but she’d collapsed, she couldn’t walk anymore. Maybe it had been a snow mirage or a hallucination. She’d even thought she’d heard someone yelling ‘ _There she is! We’ve found her!_ ’. But that was crazy.

Yet, now someone was scooping her up and wrapping her in something warm. It felt like a wool blanket. She managed to open an eye and saw Cullen’s blurry face. Sethariel shut her eye again for a moment, not quite sure of this was real or not.

“You need to stay awake,” someone was telling her. It sounded like Cullen’s voice.

“Sethariel, stay awake.”

“ _Cassandra?_ ”

Seth felt like she was being carried and she still felt warmth. She opened her eye again. Her vision was still blurry but she still saw Cullen and she could see the blurred form of Cassandra nearby.

“I’m ‘wake,” she managed eventually. Her words were still slurred like she was drunk. She shivered, she was still so cold even wrapped in a wool blanket.

Suddenly Cullen put her down. She could still only manage to keep one eye open but watched him take off his cape thingy and wrap it around her. Then he picked her up again and they started off.

The commander’s wrap was still warm from his body heat, which helped her to warm up a little more. She let her eye close and got yelled at again by Cassandra.

“ _Good old Cassandra._ ”

Seth started to reply that she wasn’t sleeping but something fuzzy tickled her face.

“It’sh feasherz,” she blurted out. “The damn thing’sh feasherz. And ish two partz.”

“What?” Cullen sounded confused.

Seth peeked at him but her vision was still too blurry to see his expression clearly.

“Thought it wash fur,” she muttered, then plucked weakly at the vest he was still wearing trying to explain she also hadn’t realized the outer cape and vest were separate pieces. They didn’t understand the last part, but Seth heard Cassandra let out a short, frustrated laugh.

“I think she’s going to be alright,” Cassandra said, her tone warm though it did sound rather forced.

The walk didn’t take too long. Seth managed to stay awake with Cullen and Cassandra’s help. Solas and Dorian met them at the edge of a camp. Dorian insisted on carrying Sethariel to the tent they had for her. Solas was already using healing magic before they got there.

Cullen and Cassandra must have followed because when Dorian put her down on a soft, warm bed she heard him trying to shoo them off.

“They can shtay, if they wan’,” Seth muttered to Solas.

“Alright, lethallan,” Solas replied, “ but you have to stay quiet. Dorian, they can stay. The two of you just sit over there.”

Solas fussed for a long time, Dorian acting as nurse. They had to cut her coat and blouse off because they didn’t want to try to pull it off over her broken arm. The bone was sticking out against the bruised skin. She thought she’d be cold in just her undershirt, but the tent was very warm.

“Lethallan, you have a broken arm and some cracked ribs.”

Sethariel tried to say ‘ _No shit eggman_ ’. But it just came out, “Nosh eggim.”

Solas ignored her, understanding the intent if not the words, “The break in your arm is clean but I need to set it. This is going to hurt, do you want someone to hold your other hand?”

Seth said yes and Dorian moved to her side grasping her good hand.

Solas continued. “Seeker, would you please come hold her legs, just in case she kicks involuntarily.”

Cassandra moved to grasp her legs, Cullen moved with her, fidgeting slightly.

“I’m the one getting medicaled,” Seth told him, “Stop worr’ng.”

Cullen gave her a sad smile. She was right, he was blaming himself.  

“ _Idiot. Like him getting himself bloody killed would have fucking helped any bloody thing._ ”

“'Medicaled' isn’t a word, dear.” Dorian pointed out.

“What’vr,” Seth sighed.

Solas set her arm then. He was fast, it was done in a single quick movement. It hurt all the way up her arm and shoulder and down into her hand. She gasped and gripped Dorian’s hand tightly but didn’t kick. The sharp pain began to dull and Solas used magic to knit the bones together.

Solas then moved to her head. He concentrated on it for a long time. When he was done, her vision was much clearer but still a little blurred. He slumped back in his seat.

“She needs a lot of rest. Thankfully, no permanent damage. The skull fracture and concussion were both relatively minor and I was able to fully heal them. She is lucky,” Solas said wearily.

“I have a hard head,” Seth replied, trying to focus her vision, “And thank you.”

Solas ignored her, “I’d rather leave the ribs at least for tonight. They’ll heal better if the swelling has time to go down on it’s own. Let’s get this shirt off and we’ll put a compress on it.”

Dorian, who was still holding her hand, leaned down and gave her a soft kiss on her forehead. Then he got up to get the compress material for Solas.

Seth could see Cullen turn bright pink.

“I should go,” he muttered fleeing the tent.

“Baby,” she muttered closing her eyes for a moment.

Her head was pounding, but she was thinking more clearly and no longer felt the urge to swear violently with every other word.

Cassandra snorted and helped Seth get her undershirt and combat bra off. Solas put the compress on her ribs and bandaged them firmly. Cassandra helped Sethariel into a light, strapless tube top and a shawl. Then, she fluffed a pillow and laid Sethariel back down on it gently.The compress started off feeling uncomfortably cold then became warm. Cassandra covered her up in blankets, then told her apologetically that she needed to go.

“Go to sleep now, lethallan,” Solas told her, he was leaving as well.

“I’ll stay with you,” Dorian added.

Seth smiled at him, then snuggled down into her blankets and went to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bit about Cullen's accessories is based on my own initial confusion about that dashing yet strange garment he wears. I had to to look it up on the internet to figure it out, Sethariel had no such luxury.
> 
> If you're wondering why the rest of the companions didn't rush in once Seth was found, it's because they broke up into different search parties to look for her and don't arrive in time to see her before she goes to sleep.


	24. From the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas and Seth have a chat.

Solas materialized beside her, “A word, lethallan. In private.”

She nodded. Seth still found it odd when Solas used the familiar term with her.

The Inquisition forces were all singing a song, some kind of hymn, she’d never heard. It was surreal. Mother Giselle had told her their faith would sustain them and seemed to think that would make everything better and somehow magically persuade her to believe in the Maker. For now maybe things would alright, but Seth didn’t want this turning into some kind of crazy, holy war. These people needed to think beyond their Chantry. If she had any say, they’d help anyone regardless of race or faith.

The song was beautiful though. Cullen had even joined in, his voice was a pleasant tenor. He’d looked at her for a long moment, like he was singing to her, before looking away and joining the rest of the crowd.

Seth was shaken from her thoughts by realizing Solas was walking on top of the snow. He slunk gracefully over the snow, barely leaving footprints.

“How do you do that?” she asked, amazed and slightly short of breath as she waded through thigh high snow.

He looked back at her and chuckled, then held out his hand and helped her step up. He used a little magic to help her walk on top of the snow too, though he wasn’t using any for himself.

They stopped at a veilfire brazier.

“Your accomplishments are impressive,” Solas said, hand clasped behind himself, “None of our kind have ever been so highly regarded by humans.”

“Well, there was Shartan. Though, he, of course, was murdered trying to rescue his lover and now is considered heretical and knowledge of him is repressed,” Solas chucked and Sethariel continued, “But, um, thank you?”

Sethariel had a bad feeling about this conversation, there was an unspoken ‘but’ hanging on the end of his statement.

“But,” Solas continued.

“ _Ah,_ ” she thought, “ _There it is._ ”

“The orb Corypheus had, it was of elvhen origin.”

Seth put her face in her hands, “Of course it is, of course it bloody is.”

“You see our problem then.”

Seth looked up, “It it one of the orbs you think? The orbs of power the ancients had?”

Solas looked a little surprised, but made a small noise of agreement, “Yes.”

“Shit!” she felt the buzzing in her head increase, “Do you think we should tell the others? Oh creators, I’m not sure how they would take it…”

“Indeed,” Solas replied, “The elves may very well be blamed.”

“But they must realize the elves don’t have that sort of power anymore... Honesty may be our best course,” Seth said slowly as she thought, “We don’t need to tell everyone but Cassandra, Josie, Leliana, and Cullen should know at the very least. But, if we tell Cass, we have to tell Varric…” Her thoughts were more formed now and she began speaking rapidly, “I think we should just tell the whole inner circle of the Inquisition. It’s the only way I think to keep this from blowing up in our faces. Maybe... not right away. That would just set everyone on edge. Do you think you could gather some more information? That way we can give them a better idea of what we’re facing.”

“Of course,” Solas’ mouth quirked into a half smile.

“ _He gets to do fade research, so he’s happy,_ ” Seth sighed, at least they had a plan, “ _I’m the one who has to break the news that the magic Orb is an elvhen relic._ ”


	25. Feathers and Fur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Travelling to Skyhold.

“Where are we going to go?” asked Josephine. “We need to get everyone relocated as soon possible.”

“I agree, we’re too exposed here and we don’t have the resources to keep everyone warm through the winter,” Cullen added.

“Solas has found something,” Seth said, then motioned for him to explain.

“Ah, yes. There is a fortress near here,” Solas said, “In common, the name would be something like Skyhold. It’s abandoned, and in need of repairs, but it is large and easily defendable. It should only take us few weeks to reach it.”

“I suggest we send a scouting party ahead,” Cassandra said.

“A wise suggestion Seeker,” Solas said, inclining his head slightly.

“Solas, Cassandra, Cole, and I can go,” Seth volunteered.

Normally, she’d take Varric or Sera but many members of the Inquisition were still uncomfortable with Cole. Especially since they kept forgetting about him. Seth wanted to keep him with her for the time being. Varric had taken a shine to Cole, so he would soften up the others while they were scouting.

“I like helping, but you think I might get into trouble. Sometimes they’re afraid because they don’t remember me,” Cole murmured from beside her. He sounded sad.

“Exactly,” Sethariel murmured back.

“But I get to come and help you?”

Seth nodded and Cole seemed contented.

Leliana nodded her approvement of the plan though she didn’t seem to notice Seth and Cole’s aside, “We can send a few other groups out too, to collect supplies. Then follow behind you.”

****

As everyone left the meeting Cullen stopped Sethariel, “Could I have a word?”

Sethariel nodded and they walked towards CUllen’s temporary command center. He gave her a rough map Harding and some some of her scouts had managed to put together of the area ahead. There were a few paths that were to dangerous to cross but there seemed to be a northwestern passage that seemed save.

“Thank you, this will be useful. Solas can only find out so much from the Fade. Please thank Harding for me. This is good work, especially with all that’s happened.”

“Our people are doing surprisingly well,” he said, his tone slightly absent.

“That’s good, very good. I am glad you - ah, and so many people survived” Sethariel pulled hand from her ear and tucked it under her arm.

“As am I,” Cullen said softly then looked away.

“ _Maybe I should go_ ,” Seth turned and started to leave.

“You stayed behind, you could have…” Cullen said suddenly, stopping Seth in her tracks. His voice was soft but serious, “I will not allow the events of Haven to happen again.”

Seth blinked, surprised. Everything felt rather intense.

“You know, I have something to confess,” Seth said softly. She was interested in Cullen, she’d accepted that. She also realized she wasn't going to get to go home any time soon. And, if he was also interested… Well, maybe she should find out. Or she could just leave it alone.

Cullen heart thumped loudly but he couldn’t possibly imagine what she would need to confess to him. He let her proceed.

“When I first met you, the very first thing I thought was that your armor was the stupidest thing I had ever seen. You were wearing that lion helm and everything was so fluffy and shiny, it was ridiculous.”

Cullen stared at her for a moment, then burst out laughing. It was a warm hearty laugh, full of mirth. He hadn’t laughed like that in a long time. As it subsided, he looked at Seth. She was watching him, a wide grin on her face.

“I’ve never heard you laugh like that,” she said.

“I don’t do it very often,” he replied, still smiling.

“You should, it’s nice.”

Cullen felt a blush starting to creep up his face. His smile slipped, and he reached up to rub his neck. “Yes, well…” he managed to stammer out.

Seth suddenly felt rather flustered herself, and fingering her left ear as she started talking again. “About your armor though.” Seth said crossing her arms in an effort to suppress her nervous habit, she was still watching him intently. “Why do you wear it? Not armor in general, I mean, but that particular armor.”

“Oh, um, well,” he tried to collect his thoughts. “It was given to me when I joined the Inquisition.”

In truth, he really didn’t know why he wore that particular armor. Leliana and Josephine had picked it out, they had giggled about it too he recalled. He hadn’t argued, it wasn’t important, but he had grown fond of the fur trimmed cape and vest that went over it, and now was more than a little embarrassed that she thought it was silly.

“It’s just I thought lions were an Orlesian thing,” Seth interjected, “and you’re… And the feathers...” She stopped, her brain finally catching up with her mouth, “Uh, anyway, I should let you get back to work and I need to get packed up,” she finished feeling ridiculously stupid.

“ _Maker’s breath_ ,” he mentally rebuked himself, disappointed by the downward turn of the conversation.

Then a sudden impulse struck and he blurted out, “It’s fur, actually."

“What?” Seth was confused.

“The trim on my cape, it’s fur not feathers. You were confused about it as well, when we found you,” Cullen explained. He wasn’t sure why he was telling her this, but it had seemed important.

Sethariel blushed slightly, it was quite fetching Cullen thought. But then he realized her smile had faded and he frowned.

“No, no! I didn’t mean to insult him. Ramble like an idiot. Fluffy feathers. No! Damn it, fur! Fur and soft red fabric draped over hard, shiny armor. He’s so pr...” Seth whipped around and grabbed the spirit boy behind her, cutting him off mid-sentence. Cullen could see her ears had turned pink.

His own blush intensified as he processed what the boy had said, “ _Was he going to say pretty?_ ”

“Cole! How nice to see you! In a talking mood, I see. We should go,” she dragged the boy away quickly. “See you later Commander,” she called over her shoulder.

“But I was making it better,” the boy was protesting.

Cullen heard her say to the strange lad, “No. No, you weren’t!”

“Maker’s breath!” the boy said, “I wasn’t trying to make her feel bad. I just wanted to talk more. Shouldn’t have said anything, should have let it drop. But it was nice to talk. So stupid. Always saying the wrong thing to her. ”

Sethariel stopped and half turned back towards the Commander. She and Cullen both looked around in embarrassed silence for a moment while Cole looked between the two of them, an expectant expression on his face.

Cullen was about to speak, but Seth beat him to it

“Thank you again for the map and… and your cape it is quite nice either way. Very nice. Goodbye, Commander Cullen. I’ll see you later,” she said, brushing the hair back from her eyes before turning and leading Cole away.

“I look forward to it, my lady,” Cullen replied. He watched them for a moment grinning like an idiot before schooling his face and returning to his duties.


	26. Three Cheers for the Inquisitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seth and the crew find Skyhold, then she gets roped into another job.

Seth walked up onto the rise Solas had pointed out and gasped. Skyhold was beautiful. It was an enormous castle surrounded by high stone battlements. It definitely needed some repairs but it was beautiful. The stones were lightly colored and shone in the early morning light. There was sheer cliffs on three sides, leaving only one entrance to the fortress, and giving a fantastic view of the mountain behind. Sethariel stood and watched the sunrise behind their new castle while Solas went to send a message to the rest of the Inquisition.

Cole hesitated for a moment then moved up to stand beside Sethariel. She was still looking at Skyhold but the wonder had passed and he could tell she was worried.

“You won’t fall,” he said.

“I know.”

“You fell before. Ice and snow, you fell and lost your ear. But you won’t fall this time,” Cole said soothingly.

“It’s more than that,” Seth sighed.

“You’ve been afraid since you were little, but heights can’t hurt,” Cole said matter-of-factly.

“Falling off them can,” Seth grimaced and rubbed her flattened ear.

“But you’re not falling,” Cole was starting to get confused. It wasn’t usually this hard to help and something was not right. “Why isn’t this helping?” This wasn’t the first time he’d tried to help with Seth but it never seemed to work.

Seth sighed and gave the boy a reassuring pat on the shoulder, “Cole, I’m not really worried about falling, it’s a lot more than that. And you are helping me.”

“Really?” he asked, “It’s hard to tell. I can hear you a little but it’s too bright and you buzz too much.” He was very serious.

Seth smiled then gave the spirit boy a hug, “It’s alright Cole, you are helping me. Much more than you know. Come on, let’s go.”

Cole brightened a little at this reassurance of his helpfulness and followed Sethariel back to the others.

****

“Well Josie, what do you think?” Seth asked as she the ambassador around Skyhold.

“It’s much larger than I expected,” she replied with a smile as she took notes yet more, “When we have it fixed up it’ll be perfect.”

They walked through the main hall and into a large side room.

“I think this should be your office,” Seth said, “It’s the perfect location and there’s a room you can use a conference room through that hall. Part of the wall is missing though, so it’ll need to be fixed as soon as possible.”

Josie nodded as she headed into the hallway and examined the hole, “I’ll have some builders come take a look. Maybe we can put a nice window here since it faces a sheer drop.”

“Or a nice opaque stone wall,” Seth quipped peering around the door frame.

Josie laughed then looked seriously at Seth, “Herald…” she hesitated, “Seth, there’s something we need to talk about.”

****

Cassandra cornered her as she tried to sneak out of out of the great hall.

Cullen was working the crowd below, they were cheering for her. Seth took the sword gingerly from Leliana she could barely lift it.

“Hold it over your head,” hissed Cassandra kindly, trying to help.

“I can’t!” she said under her breath.

She was starting to panic. These people had made her their Herald now they wanted her to be Inquisitor.

“ _This is insane. You’re all insane!_ ”

Suddenly the sword was much lighter. Someone was using magic to lift it. She spotted Dorian, giving her a small smile and an encouraging nod. Sethariel held the sword up with one hand, over her head using her own magic to lift it and tried to suppress her urge to bolt.

“ _Shit. How am I supposed to lead these people?”_


	27. A time to dance, a time to mourn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clan Lavellan is in danger.

“Inquisitor! Inquisitor! You’re needed in the war room right away!” a young woman cried breathlessly as she ran up to Seth, “It’s an emergency.” Then she ran off calling for Cassandra before Seth had a chance to ask what was going on.

Sethariel hurried to the war room and found Josephine, Leliana, and Cullen already there, looking grave. Josie handed a piece of paper to Seth.

“Your clan, they are in trouble,” Josie said, she sounded worried.

Seth scanned the letter, shocked. Deshanna was underplaying the clan’s danger, Seth knew that. “When?” she managed to asked holding the scrap of paper up.

“It just arrived,” Leliana said, “We summoned you right away.”

Cassandra entered just then and Sethariel handed the letter to the Seeker.

“Deshanna wouldn’t write unless the situation was grave. She’s worried, more than this says. Send word to your people in the area Leliana, send them to help the clan. Josephine, we have contacts in Wycome?” Sethariel had collected herself. She needed to be the Inquisitor right now and take charge.

Josie nodded and began writing.

“Good, try to get their help.” Seth moved to the map and pointed to Wycome, “Cullen, how quickly can we have our troops there?”

“It will take at least a day for the nearest contingent to reach them,” Cullen said as he took a paper from Josephine, “I’ve ordered them to get there as fast as possible.”

Seth nodded, “Cassandra, pack up we’re going too.”

Cassandra smiled grimly, “Good. I get everyone ready.” She practically ran out of the room followed by Leliana with the orders she and the other two advisors had written.

Seth headed to her room to collect her armor and weapons but Josie and Cullen ran after her..

“I’m coming with you,” Cullen said walking in step with Sethariel, “The company near your clan is very small, we’ll need to bring more men. And we need to let everyone know we don’t take threats lightly.”

“Especially to the Inquisitor's family,” Josephine added fiercely, “We will not let them get away with this.”

“Thank you. Both of you,” Seth stopped to look at her friends, she took grabbed on of their hand each, “Thank you.” Then hurried off to get ready.

Within fifteen minutes a company was assembled in the courtyard. The entire inner circle was coming, except for Josephine and Leliana. 

“They all volunteered,” Cassandra said with a shrug.

“The threat to your clan is unacceptable,” Vivienne said cooly, her lips pursed.

“The troops are ready to move out. Fifty of our best men and women,” Cullen told her. 

A stable hand had brought out her hart, Hyfryd, ready to ride.

“Let’s move out,” she as she mounted. Her face was locked in a grimace, she just hoped they weren’t too late.

* * *

 

The bandits backed by the Venetori were scattered, but the clan had suffered. Deshanna was badly injured. They tried healing spells but there was nothing to be done, it was a matter of time now to see if she would live or die. 

Sethariel sat with her in her aravel. She felt a hot tear run down her face. Deshanna tried to reach up to brush it away but couldn’t lift her arm high enough.

“Don’t cry da’lath,” she said softly, giving Sethariel’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’ve failed you,” Sethariel said, “and the clan.”

“Nonsense. You’ve done a good job with this Inquisition of yours. I am proud of you,” Deshanna said, “I’ve lived a good long life. The clan will be fine. They will go to Rivain to join Lenarii.” 

“Your son will take good care of them,” Sethariel said, “Much better than I could.”

“Well yes, because my daughter will have to take care of all Thedas,” Deshanna smiled as Sethariel buried her face in her neck her, more tears flowing down her cheeks “It’s all right, da’lath.”

Sethariel managed to get her crying under control and sat up again.

“I… I need to tell you some things,” Deshanna said hesitantly, “and I’m afraid you may hate me for them.” 

Seth expression was one of pure confusion now, “How could I ever hate you?”

“Because I’ve kept so many things from you,” Deshanna sighed, “You don’t remember you parents?”

“No, I was just a baby when they died. You know that.”

Deshanna shifted slightly so she could see Seth’s face better. 

“Your mother was the daughter of the previous Keeper and one of the clan’s most talented artisans. Your grandmother died some time before you were born, she was older than your grandfather. He was devastated by the loss, they were devoted to each other. Since your mother had no magical talent he decided to bring in a replacement from another clan and retire from his position of Keeper rather earlier than intended. That is how I came to be here.”

Sethariel nodded she knew this part of the story.

“What you have not been told is about your father. He was taken into the clan when your grandfather was Keeper” Deshanna paused, not sure how to put the next part.

“Was he a city elf?” Sethariel asked, curious as to why the Keeper was so hesitant.

“No. Not exactly. His father was a Dalish who left his clan. But you see, his mother…. Well, she was a lyrium smuggler… and a dwarf,” Deshanna felt relieved to finally get this off her chest.

“Okay,” Sethariel said, “Why hide from me though that my grandmother was a dwarf?”

Deshanna sighed, though she congratulated herself that she’d done a good job raising this girl. It hadn’t always been easy. Buying boots was one of the least strange things she’d ever done for the girl. 

“Because of the clan elders. That’s another reason that I was brought in. Clan Lavellan has never been very large and your grandfather worried they were becoming too strange. They had funny ideas about what it was to be Dalish and who should and shouldn’t be associated with. You are Dalish, you also have dwarf blood. They couldn’t understand these things aren’t contradictory. Your grandfather was afraid our clan might end up like some of the others...”

“Like the one that kicks out mage children?” Sethariel asked, face somber.

“Yes,” Deshanna rested for a moment before continuing. “Your father came to the clan as a young man trying to find himself. The elders hated that your grandfather welcomed in an unworthy durgen’len.”

“Then my mother married him and had me?”

“Oh yes, they were well suited. You look so like them,” Deshanna smiled, “But they elders, they were angry. Like the shape of one’s ears has anything to do with one’s heart,” Deshanna said angrily, triggering a coughing fit. She tried to compose herself before continuing, “They hated that we were allowing thinning of the blood line of the ‘true elves’ as they called themselves. They called you seth da’lin, the little thin blood, even before you were born. Your parents named you out to spit them.” Deshanna smiled, “Then after they died, I took you in and - well, I didn’t know what to do except raise you the best I could and try to make sure the young people weren’t so stupid.”

“But how were you able to keep it a secret?” Sethariel asked, “People had to have known.”

“So few of the elders survived the sickness and well, those that did I threatened,” Deshanna admitted.

“With what?” Sethariel dared to ask.

Deshanna tired grin was full of mischief, “After they tried to leave you on the mountain, I built a shrine to Fen’Harel and cursed them.”

Seth slapped a hand over her mouth and laughed.

Deshanna tried to laugh but coughed instead, making her gasp for breath before continuing, “They were so superstitious, I convinced them if they ever spoke of it the Dread Wolf would personally come and take them off. I must say, I put on quite the show that night. I just wish old Felassa had lived to see you be my First.”

“Ma serannas, mamae,” Sethariel said, bending to kiss the woman’s head, “I just wish you had told me sooner.”

“I know, but I was worried. It was foolish but I was afraid it would isolate you even more,” Deshanna said.

“You should sleep now,” Sethariel told her. She held her hand as she slipped into slumber.

* * *

 

Solas came out of the aravel a stern expression on his face, Dorian trailed behind looking worried. Vivienne was still inside, the three mages had been working on a treatment plan. Solas was the best healer of the three but Vivienne was talented at potions. Dorian had offered his services to assist them.

“How is she?” Sethariel asked.

“You should be getting some sleep,” Solas remonstrated, then sighed, “I don’t know, lethallan. She has a strong will but the wound is severe. Her recovery will be difficult and she will have to be careful and do less.”

Seth sat down. “Shit.”  she ran a hand through her hair. “Thank you..” 

Solas nodded and walked off but Dorian sat with her until Vivienne came out.

“Your mother is quite delightful, my dear,” Vivienne said with a smile. “Such a spirit is hard to extinguish.” 

She patted Sethariel shoulder soothingly, “Get some rest, you can see her in the morning.”

* * *

 

Sethariel was both relieved and sad to see the walls of Skyhold. Her clan was farther than they had even been, far in Rivain with Lenarii. It had been the wisest decision. THe clan wouldn’t be happy in Skyhold and both the Rivain and Lenarii’s clan had said they’d be welcome. Deshanna had wanted to come with Seth but the cold mountains would have been too bad for her health. The warmth as fresh sea air of the Rivaini coast would be beneficial. It had been one of the few things her three mage friends had agreed upon.

Seth sighed, she was tired. Truly tired and she knew she would have to leave Skyhold soon. They’d had work from Josephine, who had stayed behind, of all the places she was needed. She was also going to have to go back to Val Royeaux, but at least that was still a few months away. 

* * *

 

“Inquisitor?” Josephine called softly. 

Sethariel looked up, “Yes?”

She was in her room going over the reports that had been sent while she'd been in Crestwood.

Josie came into full view, her face was sad and she had a letter in her hands. “Sethariel, I’m so sorry.” She handed the parchment to Seth.

Seth read the first few lines then her eyes teared up. She handed the letter back to Josie, “Please read it to me, I - I can’t…”

Josie read the letter from Lenarii.

_ ~ _

_ Lethallan, _

_ I am sorry but Deshanna has passed on. It was peaceful and in her sleep. She was happy here, and got to know her grandchildren, Taris and Mahari, as well as my beloved husband Ovaar. She spoke of you often and no mother could have been prouder of her daughter. I’ve enclosed her medallion, she wanted you to have it. I’m sorry I can’t be with you in this time of grief for our clan and our family. I know I do not know you well, Sethariel, for you were a small child when I left, but you are my sister through my mother and my family and I love you. Know that we think of you often and pray you continue to have the grace and wisdom of which Deshanna was so proud. I know we shall know joy again, Ir abelas, lethallan. My your path be smooth and your way made clear. _

_ WIth all my love,  _

_ Lenarii, your brother _

~

Sethariel nodded. “Thank you Josie.” Her vision was still blurred with tears, though they didn’t fall.

Josie gave Seth the amulet. Then she hesitated a moment and gave Sethariel a hug. “I am sorry, please let me know if you need anything.” 

Seth nodded again and murmured some words of thanks. 

The next few hours brought a parade of her friends bringing their condolences. Varric tried to be comforting, Dorian made sure she was comfortable. Sera brought her cookie sand cakes and tried to cheer her up. Other’s brought their condolences and offers of support. 

Vivienne was perhaps the most helpful, Bastien’s loss was still fresh with her. 

“I am sorry my dear,” Vivienne said. She gave Seth a gentle hug. “It will hurt for a long time darling and there is nothing you can do to make it hurt less. But you are strong enough to make it through the pain and, eventually, it will lessen. Don’t forget that.”  


	28. Open up your eyes (aka This is filler!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra and Varric have a conversation as they observe the Inquisitor and the Commander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is filler and I haven't updated in ages. Sorry, sorry, sorry.
> 
> Real life man, it gets in the way

Cassandra and Varric watched the exchange from the walkway above. They were standing at the edge leaning on the wall where could see and hear without being seen from below. Cassandra shook her head making a disgusted noise as Seth and Cullen parted after a short and rambling conversation.

“Those two are ridiculous,” she said, “Setherial is the leader of the Inquisition and Cullen is the commander of an army. You think they’d be able to talk to each other without acting like a silly school children.”

Varric chuckled, “Seth can face down dragons and crazed Darkspawn Magisters, but she’s not so good with emotions. And Curly’s so nervous around her that she starts to get nervous too. Notice she starts rubbing her ear? Then she crosses her arms to stop herself.”

“She usually starts that right after Cullen starts rubbing his neck and blushing,” Cassandra added with a snort, “Though, I swear he blushes whenever she so much as looks in his direction.”

“Very true, Seeker. At least she didn’t give him brass marigolds or send a sheaf of wheat and some goats to his mother.”

Cassandra snorted again, remembering the story Varric had told her about Kirkwall’s guard captain and her first attempt at courting her husband, “We’ll step in if it looks like it’s going in that direction.”

Varric nodded his agreement and patted the Seeker’s hand softly, quite pleased that she didn’t pull away. Then, they parted ways to return to work.


End file.
